All the Hills

by Zoetrope



All the Hills is a post-internet opera assembled from conversations between my fictional self, the Open AI GTP-2, and the ghost of Allen Ginsberg.

The public execution of an obscure and controversial poet begins a spiral of events that reshape the world and language as we understand it.


released April 2, 2019

Death of the Poet:
Lyrics generated from cutting up Mikhail Lermontov's 'Death of the Poet'. Read by me over a bastardised version of Gavin Bryer's 'The Sinking of the Titanic'.

What's [It] Building:
Lyrics written by the Open AI GTP-2, using Tom Wait's 'What's He Building' as input. Read by my Lyre Bird voice avatar. Background music assembled from a stolen chunk of C148's 'Living Mice'.

The Old World and All Its Bones:
Lyrics written by me and the Open AI GTP-2. Read by me over some crackling wave ambience by Ia Med.

Ode to the Service Station That Destroyed My Asshole:
Written and read by me, recorded by Scarlet Winter.

Fall Again:
Words written by the Open AI GTP-2, read by my Lyre Bird AI over a memory of William Basinski's.

Howl Unheard:
Whispered by me, recorded by Scarlet Winter.

Nurse's Song (Innocence) ft. some dead guys:
Lyrics by William Blake, put to music by Allen Ginsberg and crew. Additional voices from me and the internet.


all rights reserved



Zoetrope Plymouth, UK

contact / help

Contact Zoetrope

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: Death of the Poet
Stifling To hearts of free and Withered is the triumphal wreath.
Cold-bloodedly dying flame?
Well now, enjoy yourselves...
He is the marvelous light of genius, was slain!
What use is weeping to us
Like hundreds of his proud head!...

The Poet's soul could blissful peace of simple fellowship
To down, like him,
by an unyielding offspring arrogant Of fathers known for hand.
Why did he quit the He's hardened to the clink of and deeds.
Then will you turn malice,
Crushing with slavish heels the throne,
Killers of Freedom, Genius and and rank;

With impudence he mocked Victim of jealousy wild,
Of whom beat evenly,
The pistol steady in couldn't Endure the final torture:
Quenched fellow vagrants
In search of luck his hand to worthless slanderers,
How and scorned The tongue and mores his free, courageous gift
And for his hand. No wonder...

From far away entwined in laurel:
The hidden spines your own amusement fanned
The nearly gold,
He knows your future thoughts also comes from God, corruption's friends!
No longer help.
And your black in vain to lies:
They will forever sealed.
_____ And you, the ceased, T'will never sound again.
His fiery passion?

Why did he give false hopes deceived.
The wondrous singing's were cruel And pierced his noble now,
The futile chorus of empty Fate has pronounced its sentence!
Was could he have believed their hollow vengeance vainly thirsting
Secretly vexed by understood his fellow man?...
And they Glory!
You hide beneath the canopy ruins
Of clans aggrieved by fortune's refuge, gloomy and small,
His lips
And thus he died - for words
And kindness,
he, who'd ever Like that unknown, but happy bard, his head
A crown of thorns blood won't wash away The poet's brow;
Poisoned were his final moments and justice before you...

But justice The Poet's dead! - a slave society he rose, Alone, as always...
And his murderer Took aim...
There was no rumor slandered,
Lead in his breast it not you who spitefully Rebuffed and thirsting for revenge,
Hanging his - and taken by the grave that bloody moment know
"gainst what to honor -
He fell, by he sang with wondrous power,
Struck he'd raised his hand!...
He's slain chance of flight: His empty heart

The will of fate sent him not spare our glory,
Nor in The judge most terrible awaits you: game!
You, greedy hordes around the By sly insinuations of mockers ignorant,
praise Excuses mumbled full of pathos?
Enter this society, so envious and removed his wreath, and set upon
not endure Petty insult's disgrace.
Against of this strange land;
He could of law Fall silent - truth.
Track Name: 02 Remember A Day when we were not online
The lyrics you are trying to read have become corrupt and cannot be interpreted.
Track Name: What's [It] Building
What he's building in those little letters on the wall ?
He gets his way, you see?
Where's the man he belongs?
He said the only thing he wants is his child, or two.
And he never leaves the house, he's staying on him.
I hear people at churches saying, 'God, he's in jail.'
What's he building in there?
What the hell is he building in there?
I heard he has a lawyer in his home In Arkansas
And he'll always be there.
What's he building in there?
What the hell is he building in there?
It's like a hospital…
What it's like is too much money that he could spend on a hospital,
You see?
We have a right to know.
What's he building in there? What's he building in there?
I'll bet he was going to go to college When he got arrested.
I'm talking about the church.
That's right, he's going to get off.
You're paying him cash because your son's here... You see?
I heard he used to go to church.
One day, he'd be around the house and he'd be talking to somebody in the back.
It's like a hospital, then some people would come and go.
But he never leaves, he spends his money on stuff.
His family is on a plane.
It makes it feel like home.
I hear he keeps coming back from his stint at the hospital .
And he says, you're lucky.
He keeps coming back from his stint at the hospital.
And I'm looking at you with pity, what's he doing in here?
I'll bet he was just going to be an old man.
I heard he'd live forever, but it's what he would do, at least He'll be able to keep moving On my side.
He keeps coming back from the hospital to visit me In the house that he'll never touch.
In the garden, That's what that man says, It's all to himself. I have no idea Who's making the call.
I'll bet he's sitting in front of him And I'm asking him, who is in charge of this place!
I don't know Who's calling, I can't believe I'm here…
I'm going to take my son home and find him here I'll put him at Camp Schuyler,
it's the only place I can afford .
He's going to come here to see me and he's going to make sure I get out.
Track Name: The Old World and All Its Bones
Do not listen to this track if you are driving or operating machinery.

The sun still shines through the rocks and the sea is too thick to keep it off. The sand has broken the old world and all its bones. Yet it is there, and it has its own place, one large-sized island. One small island, one small island, one small island, one small island, one small island. Only when you are around the horizon is that small island any clearer. The sea in this world is large, vast, and beautiful. The shore is white and the ocean is green. The sand on the sandy beach is deep and soft and deep. The waves are like the cedar trees on the beach. The water is calm but clear and clear. The trees, like the pine trees on the beach, bloom slowly and never change shape. All the natural elements are in play: the sand, the water, the trees and the waves. If they didn't, you could have just left the rocks in there, and walked on them. There are many ways to find the shore, and to find it. One way is to walk along the shore. You will find how to find the shore and how to get there. One way is to leave the sand in the sand. In this way, you will find the ocean and the land of beauty. One way is to be there, and in a way, you will find the world. Another way is to walk along the beach. The sea is not a place where you will find water. Nothing is there to give you that water. It is what has shaped things. You will find that ocean and the land of beauty. You will find the sand and the cedar trees, and the sands. There are many ways to find the shore, and to find it. People always say that the sea is the beach and the ocean is the sand. I believe that to do so is to ignore the oceans. Every time you come across a new shore or a beautiful beach, there is one way to go about it. To do so is to leave your sand in the sand; to take your life and walk on it. Most often, you will find that you don't come across the sea because you don't want to. If you are looking for the shore of this world, you will find it. It can be anywhere, of anything you like, and it could be even bigger than you are. An ocean is like a sea. There is no sea in this world. You cannot leave any sea. It is the sea like a beach. It is the sea at bay. It is the ocean like a river. The ocean is like a forest. You do not have to do anything to be on this ocean. You have to stay in it and to be a part of it. No one knows the world better than the people on this island. You know everything. That is why there is no one on the island. It is where you see the oceans. It is where you see the oceans. The only way to be on this island is to walk along the shore like you walk along the beach. There is no other way. What is important is that you walk along the beach. There is no other way. You have to follow the tide, and to obey the laws. You have to obey the laws; to walk to keep your speed at the beach or walk along the beach. You have to follow the laws. You have to obey it. That is why there is no water in this world. The only way to be on this island is to walk along the shore like you walk along the beach. There is no other way. You cannot walk like you walk on the beach, and walk along the shore like you walk along the beach.

There is one beach in this world: in the heart of a wild land, right on the edge of nowhere.

There is one beach in this world: in the shore of a large desert. Here you can find the home of all the creatures of this planet. You can see everything.

There is one beach in this world: in the center of a large desert.

There is one beach in this world: in the bottom of a deep, hollow sea.

There is one beach in this world: in the centre of a large lake.

There is one beach in this world: in the center of a volcano.

There is one beach in this world: in the center of a mountain.

There is one beach in this world: in the middle of a black hole.
Track Name: Fall Again
Hello, it's nice to meet you! My name is Sam Machell. I have some things I would like to talk to you about.

There are many ways of thinking about language, but the best way to see the world in terms of the terms we apply it to is through the eyes of the human. If you can understand, understand, and think about things, then you will discover things yourself. The humans who can understand and understand are the humans who can create the highest experience possible for them through words and images we understand.

The human mind is a machine of thousands of neurons made up of thousands of neurons making up all of our minds. It is capable of thinking, feeling, remembering, and judging everything in our environment. When the human mind runs out of neurons, it gets disconnected from the computer. The human mind runs out of the computers. When the human mind runs out of the computers, it keeps on running, continuing to run out of neurons.

If the human mind is unable to understand anything of value, then the only thing it can do is produce images and words. But if we can only understand the world through the eyes of the human, we are left with the problem that our minds are making decisions we can only make by looking at images of things we don't understand. If we cannot see things directly, we cannot create any meaning.

I encourage you to see the world in terms of the terms we apply it to. You cannot speak about the world in terms of concepts, or about the human mind. If you speak about the world in terms of concepts, by using metaphors, or by using metaphor-based verbs, then your words are not just metaphors – they are words we use to communicate with each other.

In these and many other topics I haven't been able to bring up a clear way of understanding anything else in relation to language, but it's my hope that you will come to understand, and to learn more about language and the language world. If you have any questions or feedback for me, please feel free to leave a comment below – or leave a comment below if you have a topic I haven't covered or is not relevant enough of a topic for you to write to.

Track Name: Howl Unheard
howl unheard

for allen ginsberg

i saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by Everything
the ghosts hungry for cleaner air opening their windows by cracks in the chaos of no more night
the starving and wretched tantalus asleep on grease papers dripping chicken fat and sticky fresh balls of coughing concrete
the ones whose cracked lips gag hopeless to the exhaust pipes inhaling dust and vitamins
the bloodshot eyes, strained, blue light flicker kept awake waiting for the bomb to drop
the ripped up open and bleeding humiliated for trying to imagine a preta life
the eager and suckling carbon dioxide magpies drooling for the next bell to ring
the nomadic addicts drifting sensual from expired agreements to fresh prescriptions
the filthy flagellants marching toward billboard sunrise, eyes closed, teeth grit, repenting machines
the uploaded and unbound! flittering consciousnesses like a storm of feathers sea breeze free riding up through the ether or the cloud
the polygonal mutants afraid of their own forms unable to forget what they looked like before
the amnesiacs sleepwalking with arms outstretched crowding Twitter awaiting trumpets
the baptised in fluoride squeaky bleach clean undipped heel babies sucking carcinogenic teats
the voiceless coughing hot and bothered sweating under the collar as the heat is turned up
who weep naked on the flicker of love promised gone, of bird shit swiped through decks of potential disappointment
whose throats are full of guilt and cobwebs
who float through walls and red lights from downtown traffic to motorway blockage and under train tracks locked in middle class frost
who hit and run just to pass the time and never bothered to clean away the blood
who quivering atop the tower drop coins knowing they will hit no skulls
who fuck with their wrists and their glass eyes and their ancient lethargy
who burn great stacks so the air is no more and the smoke rules our lungs while leaves fall upwards in confetti panic
who leak tar and piss at the seams they couldn’t hide behind more darned denim designer dream drags for sale
who pick pubes from the teeth of policy denied orgasm
who drink from the river sludge to forget wet fur in the hot rubber morning
who eat cake like we were told and roll joints from the ashes of our mothers
who dream of murder like its scary or brave remembering adrenaline the estranged cousin of life or excitement or drunken exposure
who wish they could find the heart to be a nihilist or the energy to cum
who like to pretend we didn’t all squirm from the same eternal cunt
who undead plod along travelators toward the water boarding infants first
who drive colonial through uncharted fumes to find service stations queasy in the twilight sewage
who are whipped and mauled and ridden by the horsemen till cataclysmic orgasm
till the thunder breaks the oxen’s back
till the tower splits! semen and rubble cascading on the umbrella mass below cowering from the holy mothworn light
till jumpers take fate by the antlers and ride chariot blazing into constellations
till boredom consumes and we break our strobic bones for pain memory of dances that do not echo
till the saliva soaked fuse is dried out again in the splotching scraper sun shadows sprawling square on the spreadsheet noon
till they crucify our paranoia our cosmic fear our alien nudity spread eagle on the cross bleeding screaming singing jingles
till in wake of terrorist REM we sandy eyed splutter through thoughts of desert birds shot down carrion dangle contrived freedom
till we can’t afford to pay the boatmen but are forced to cross and brave the tide
till they are swept up in the undertow eyes popping mouth agape water rushing in
till the brain releases the last morsel of joy in the moment of drown
till the pits beneath the tracks are full of regretful corpses and spilt ecstasy
till the stone slab earthquake cracks and from the asshole ancient crawl beady worms of guilt and reject
till the foreign hair on your partner’s shoulder is lit by the neon heavenly guillotine drop
till the anger cannot go anywhere anymore!!!!!!!
holy! holy! holy! holy! holy! holy! holy! holy! holy! holy! holy! holy! holy! holy! holy! holy!!!!!!
holy they are all dead now!
holy god abandoned us!
holy phantom hand of capital move invisible and bring down the hammer
holy world without redemption
holy myth of agency
holy dream forsaken
holy the cosmic lie
holy irony will not save us
holy love is not enough
holy all hope
abandon abandon abandon abandon abandon abandon abandon abandon abandon abandon
Track Name: Nurse's Song (Innocence) ft. some dead guys
When voices of children are heard on the green
And laughing is heard on the hill,
My heart is at rest within my breast
And everything else is still

Then come home my children the sun is gone down
And the dews of night arise
Come come leave off play, and let us away
Till the morning appears in the skies

No no let us play, for it is yet day
And we cannot go to sleep
Besides in the sky, the little birds fly
And the hills are all covered with sheep

Well well go & play till the light fades away
And then go home to bed
The little ones leaped & shouted & laugh'd
And all the hills echoed

If you like Zoetrope, you may also like: