The Pilot's Crucifixion/Indian Oil

Taken from "The Harold Pig Memorial" 2002

"The sun dries a wet flag
In the air
With mixed emotions
You see on our federal bulletin
A community of thick wiring
Ever so straight
Goes the path of an arrow
straight through it
By whatever means anything
And never will
To the systems
Who giveth and taketh
In the closing times
For / to flesh reminders
About capsule hatching
Stiff drink memories
Make solid the previous conclusion
As to who's driving this ship
...
And coins to slot
And pearls to gather
A sailor's grace
Sphinx-like
Indian oil
Ghostwhore
Shadows and shells
Premature happiness
Fuller..."

We descend into the spooky and weird world of the Circus Devils now. A menacing start and splash of drum and then Bob begins some abstract poetry over a spooky and howling backing track. Slightly off key and quite odd. A Pink Floyd like middle section which is kinda ambient then what sounds like a fuzzed up banjo and the tempo changes rapidly and we are into the second part of the song. As I say, its a bit odd. Nothing too offensive here but I do admit I prefer it when Bob writes soaring pop songs and not a massive fan of his experimental stuff.