sweaty crease 33

Day, Oh! and Play.

swcrease33.nfo

1. play the music
2. look at photos
3. play again if music stops


House of 909 - Beautiful Day
Beautiful Style Mix
pressed in 1998



























oh lord i pray
for this beautiful day
lord of creation...
sun in the sky
dries the tears from my eyes
such a beautiful day
beautiful, beautiful
such a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
beautiful, beautiful
beautiful (beautiful)
beautiful
beautiful, beautiful
beautiful

rejoice my sign
(beautiful, beautiful, beautiful)
beautiful, beautiful (beautiful)
(beautiful, beautiful, beautiful)
'cause i've waited so long...
beautiful, yeah!
(beautiful, beautiful, beautiful)
rejoice to the nation
my sweet love's creation

on this beautiful day
rejoice to the nation
my sweet love's creation
on this beautiful day
the sun in the sky
dries the tears
the sun in the sky
rejoice my sound
beautiful, beautiful, beautiful day
beautiful! yeah!
(beautiful, beautiful, beautiful)
cause i've waited so long
beautiful day
sun in the sky
lord of creation
beautiful! yeah!
(beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful)
beautiful!

oh lord i pray
for this beautiful day
lord of creation
such a beautiful day
(beautiful, beautiful)
rejoice to the nation
my sweet love's creation
on this beautiful day
rejoice to the nation
my sweet love's creation
on this beautiful day
the sun in the sky
dries the tears
the sun in the sky
the sun in the sky
dry the tears from my eye
beautiful day
(beautiful)
beautiful day



A movement was reflected in the mirror beside the door.

A dark thing rose from the floor at the top of the stairs. The thing unfolded. The sense was of a blossoming. An expansion after being enclosed, like a man or woman standing and spreading their arms wide after huddling foetally, but multiplied and made vast. As if the thing's indistinct limbs could bend a thousand times, so that it unhinged like a paper sculpture, standing and spreading arms or legs or tentacles or tails that opened and opened. The thing that had huddled like a dog stood and opened itself, and it was nearly the size of a man.

As Teafortwo tried to bolt past Lublamai and Lublamai tried to open his mouth to scream, his eyes still fixed to the creature in the mirror, his feet skittering on the flagstones, the thing at the top of the stairs opened its wings. The thing made its body thin and spread those colossal wings, massive flat folds of stiff skin that seemed to fill the hall. They were irregular, chaotic in shape, random fluid whorls; but mirror-perfect left and right, like spilt ink or paint patterns on folded paper.

And on those great flat planes were dark stains, rude patterns that seemed to flicker as Lublamai watched and Teafortwo fumbled with the door, wailing. The colours were midnight, sepulchral, black-blue, black-brown, black-red. And the patterns did flicker, the shadow-shapes moved like amoeba in a magnifying lens or oil on water, the patterns left and right still matching, moving in time hypnotic and heavy, faster. Lublamai's face creased. His back itched maniacally with the thought that the thing was behind him. Lublamai spun to face it, gazed directly into the mutating colours, the dusky vivid show...

...and Lublamai no longer thought of screaming but only of watching as those dark markings rolled and boiled in perfect symmetry across the wings like clouds in a night sky above, in water below. The patterns on the wings caught him and he stared, his mouth open, still and silent, agog, slack-jawed and shivering gazing at the magnificent wings.

- China Mieville (cut)