EPISODE · Jun 17, 2026 · 4 MIN
The Serpent in the Mirror
from FRED STZ MUSIC · host FRED STZ
I looked into the mirror of my own throat — And the throat was a crack Running down the spine of God. YAAAAAAAH — YAH-YAH-YAH — EEEEEEEEE! Sha-la-ka-ba-ra... sha-la-ka-ba-ra... KEK! The self I loved was a ghost wearing my skin, And the self I hated was the same ghost, Turning its face to the wall. KREEEEEEEEE! — GGGGGHHH! We are not one. We are a war — A civil war of atoms, A schism in the marrow, A fistfight between the light that wants to live And the dark that remembers the tomb. Haaaaaaaaa... HHHHH! Thanatos whispers from the root of the tooth: "Come home to the dirt." But Eros hums in the hip and the wrist: "Dance — you are still warm." Nnnnnnngggggghhhh... And I am the battlefield — Both armies, both flags, both prayers. I spit on my own altar. I kneel to my own grave. Rrrrrrraaaaaahhhh... The mind is a mirror that lies — It shows a face, But the face is a mask, And the mask is a door, And the door is a mouth, And the mouth is screaming "I am not this!" Za-za-za! — KEE! — Rah-tah-tah! — HOO! — Shalakazam! We fracture — snap! — we shatter — crack! We build our cages out of lack. Love is a knife in a velvet glove, And we slit ourselves to feel the love. HAAAAAAAAAAAAH! — EEEEEEEEE! I bleed my own name, I drink my own shame, I am the wound and the heal, The wheel and the squeal. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... ...still here. The world ends — Not with fire, Not with flood, But with the stillness of a woman Who stops fighting herself. Ah... ha... ha... ha... And in that stillness — A door. Wooooo... woooo... woooo... We are the cut and the paste. The rip and the mend. The mirror and the smasher. The dreamer and the dream-end. Hehehe... hehehe... GRRRRAH! Love your split self — Love your bruise — Love the war — It is your only muse. HHHHHH! — HAAAAH! — EEEYAH! — KAAH! We fracture — we choose the crack — We are the crack — And the crack is the door. I am the other I was before. AAAEEEIOUUUU! — GRAHHH! Love — inhale — Death — exhale — The breath is the bridge. The breath is the rage. The breath is the page Where I write my own liberation. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... Yoooooooooo... ...I am still here.
What this episode covers
I looked into the mirror of my own throat — And the throat was a crack Running down the spine of God. YAAAAAAAH — YAH-YAH-YAH — EEEEEEEEE! Sha-la-ka-ba-ra... sha-la-ka-ba-ra... KEK! The self I loved was a ghost wearing my skin, And the self I hated was the same ghost, Turning its face to the wall. KREEEEEEEEE! — GGGGGHHH! We are not one. We are a war — A civil war of atoms, A schism in the marrow, A fistfight between the light that wants to live And the dark that remembers the tomb. Haaaaaaaaa... HHHHH! Thanatos whispers from the root of the tooth: "Come home to the dirt." But Eros hums in the hip and the wrist: "Dance — you are still warm." Nnnnnnngggggghhhh... And I am the battlefield — Both armies, both flags, both prayers. I spit on my own altar. I kneel to my own grave. Rrrrrrraaaaaahhhh... The mind is a mirror that lies — It shows a face, But the face is a mask, And the mask is a door, And the door is a mouth, And the mouth is screaming "I am not this!" Za-za-za! — KEE! — Rah-tah-tah! — HOO! — Shalakazam! We fracture — snap! — we shatter — crack! We build our cages out of lack. Love is a knife in a velvet glove, And we slit ourselves to feel the love. HAAAAAAAAAAAAH! — EEEEEEEEE! I bleed my own name, I drink my own shame, I am the wound and the heal, The wheel and the squeal. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... ...still here. The world ends — Not with fire, Not with flood, But with the stillness of a woman Who stops fighting herself. Ah... ha... ha... ha... And in that stillness — A door. Wooooo... woooo... woooo... We are the cut and the paste. The rip and the mend. The mirror and the smasher. The dreamer and the dream-end. Hehehe... hehehe... GRRRRAH! Love your split self — Love your bruise — Love the war — It is your only muse. HHHHHH! — HAAAAH! — EEEYAH! — KAAH! We fracture — we choose the crack — We are the crack — And the crack is the door. I am the other I was before. AAAEEEIOUUUU! — GRAHHH! Love — inhale — Death — exhale — The breath is the bridge. The breath is the rage. The breath is the page Where I write my own liberation. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... Yoooooooooo... ...I am still here.
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The Serpent in the Mirror
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