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LOCKDOWN SIEBEN VOLUME 9

by Sieben

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1.
Come, Raven King We, of no name! Hunkered on Northern moor. Clung to Southern shore. Wading Eastern fen. Straddling Western fell. Come, raven King, ascend to bring harmony to all. A black moon rise on scattered tribes of fen, fell, and moor.
2.
Fire Drill 06:47
Fire Drill Today was fire drill, the stamp and grind stop. Skiver’s delight, we filed out in lines, like school yard time. Cowling and Smith set each other dares. Tolson flicked a rhythm on a can; Mackinlay stares and points and glares. Harding, Peterson turned and ran. Back upstairs, the fag room empty and the old pot plate; feeling half their weight they lit and flicked, oasis of a double-break. Fell asleep to smouldering dreams. And then the sound: A distant crowd. And then the sound. Harding would have played the drums, or inside-left to great applause, inside, Peterson would have tackled blazes; hosed this crappy factory down, sifted charcoal remains, kicked up this old plate, remembered happy times crouched round; the faggers team, the skiver’s eleven. They fell asleep their smouldering dreams. And then the sound: A distant crowd. And then the sound: A distant crowd. Their dreams smouldering up in smoke.
3.
Blackdogday 06:27
Blackdogday There is harm, there is hurt There's me, then there is them Them They watch, patiently wait Press, prod, tease, taunt They manipulate On my phone, in the walls Waiting in the wings, watching all Black dog day Black dog day Will they learn my secret? Black dog day Though i am no-one Black dog day Will they learn my secret? Black dog day My constant companion
4.
47 words for Sheffield Mine coal's pit well dish steel fold farm sprig sprouted womb moor warm small hold ing calm budd leia warped works Hope Street's nether edge chiselled North sound-forge bracken beats landscape's ledge muck stem poet's clough wind wood swept sowndown cobble hill hail ruderain leaf-tree foundry home No Less Than All “I am sweeping through The Gate, washed in the blood of the Lamb” he said. Disputing the world, the word. The line, the hook. This strength will carry me. I negate all need for positive, I exist, I thrive. The line and hook merely barb in my side. There is no less than all. We resist we thrive, we fail just being alive. In my eyes, no less than all. On my side no less than all. I am sweeping through The Gate, no less than all. Washed in the blood of no less than all.
5.
No Less Than All “I am sweeping through The Gate, washed in the blood of the Lamb” he said. Disputing the world, the word. The line, the hook. This strength will carry me. I negate all need for positive, I exist, I thrive. The line and hook merely barb in my side. There is no less than all. We resist we thrive, we fail just being alive. In my eyes, no less than all. On my side no less than all. I am sweeping through The Gate, no less than all. Washed in the blood of no less than all.
6.
As They Should Sound Morning fields above the city, its cattle-drive disgruntled moaning. In city’s evening gutter, fights break out then up at last order’s cry. As they should sound. As they should sound. Early DJ perched at his station will fill the waves with bright dull twitter. The afternoon dignitaries gather, Have their fill, talking up and down. As they should sound. As they should sound. Night, and the song’s in place. Drawn on the bow, plucked from the heart. Right in the mix, fixed to the bass. Strapped to the beat and locked in place.
7.
Sing Loud 05:34
Sing Loud So much beauty in this world, so much to sing for. So much beauty to unfurl. So much to care for. Sing loud for those who work an honest day. Who add to the whole, who give to the world, who won’t take because they can. Sing, Sing, Sing!
8.
Sing Loud So much beauty in this world, so much to sing for. So much beauty to unfurl. So much to care for. Sing loud for those who work an honest day. Who add to the whole, who give to the world, who won’t take because they can. Sing, Sing, Sing! Ogham The Blade Anrad we have stripped the birch, to supplant with branch of steel. Cold sun spurge, the spark extinguished, score another notch on haft and shield. We drunkship of cobblers on a sea of rain, our marsh of diseases, our magic a blade. Call upon the blade, harness the pain. Burn down quert and sail, gort in the rain. Anrad we cast down the gentle thorn, for scarred gods’ seasoned bark. Bonfire burn the stars extinguished, we ogham piss the land our mark. A disorder of sparks, our will firebrand red, our fire is survival all magic is dead. Call upon the blade, harness the pain. Burn down quert and sail, gort in the rain.
9.
Sold Your Future Roll up, roll up. Roll up, roll up. Sell your future! Roll up, roll up, for shady deals. Blood money, stocks, and arms a steal. Feeding frenzy, take the lead. Grasping chancers first to sell your future. Antiques Roadshow, Twenty-Four. Leave guns and morals by the door. Here’s a heart, a spleen, a Brexit-ear in which to scream ‘sold your future’. Roll up, roll up, for cut-price stock. Govern-less, and out to hock. Haven for the rouble schemer, the tiny-island dreamer. Sold your future.
10.
Loki 06:31
Loki I am stone, my lips are sown. Stone, my lips are sown. ‘Til wild Loki tear loose from his bonds, wasters on the warpath come. I am chained, venom for my rain. Chained, venom for my rain. ‘Til wild Loki tear loose from his bonds, wasters on the warpath come wasters on the warpath come wasters on the warpath come

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released March 5, 2021

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Sieben Sheffield, UK

Providing the soundtrack to your apocalypse experience.

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