The Legendary Pink Dots - Waiting For The Cloud

Any Day Now, 1988 The river was rainbow stew, the fishes choked and cursed. The thirsty dogs spat fire, rolled in glue, then they burst. The fur balls flying, trees were dying-- dandelions were crippled, bald . . . We saw it all in colour-- now we’re waiting for the cloud. A mother forcefed baby milk which ticked and bubbled black. She sank it back with plastic pills although it stank . . . seemed thankful. Rolled up in her sack, she won’t be back, sh