Synthetic aussie idioms a go go, the engine totally made up "hungry enough to butter a beer coaster".

Website coming soon.

And Moloch, for @auryn_macmillan What great bloody sphinx of concrete and aluminium cracked open their noggins and scoffed the lot? Brains, dreams, imagination, the whole bloody works? What sort of mongrel does that, eh? Moloch! That’s who. Moloch! Bein’ lonely as a shag on a rock! Filth! Ugliness, the face-like-a-dropped-pie kind! Wheelie bins overflowin', bin chickens fightin' over the scraps, and not a brass razoo to rub together! Little tackers screamin' blue murder under the stairs! Young blokes bawlin' their eyes out in the barracks! Old codgers sittin' in the park, havin' a quiet bloody sook! Moloch! Moloch! Moloch the nightmare ya never wake up from! Moloch with no love in him, cold as a mother-in-law’s kiss! Moloch livin’ in yer noggin! Moloch the hangin’ judge, passin’ sentence on every bloke that walks past! Moloch the lock-up nobody can make head nor tail of! Moloch the skull-‘n-crossbones slammer without a soul in the joint, and a Parliament House of sorrows, every galah in it flappin’ their gums! Moloch whose buildings are the verdict, every brick of ’em! Moloch the bloody great rock of a stoush, with the young blokes comin’ home in boxes! Moloch the pollies, standin’ about like stunned mullets! Talk about a pack of drongos. Moloch whose mind is nothin’ but machinery, cogs ‘n pistons all the way down! Moloch with the folding stuff pumpin’ through his veins where the blood oughta be! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose chest is a dynamo that eats its own kind! Moloch whose ear is a grave with the smoke still comin’ off it! Moloch whose eyes are a thousand windows and not one of the bastards can see a thing! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand down the long streets like Jehovahs, God after God after God, no end to ’em! Moloch whose factories dream ‘n croak away in the fog like frogs in a dam! Moloch whose smokestacks ‘n aerials sit on top of the Big Smoke like a crown, while it chokes in its own smog! Moloch whose love is oil ‘n stone and never runs out! Moloch whose soul is the power lines ‘n the banks! Moloch who’s so stony broke, genius just haunts the place like a ghost! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of hydrogen that’s never had a root in its life! Moloch whose name, and get this, is the Mind! Moloch, and I’m sittin’ in the heartless prick on me Pat Malone! Moloch, and in him I dream of Angels! Off me rocker in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Not a skerrick of love, not a bloke to call me own, in Moloch! Moloch who got into me soul when I was a nipper! Moloch, and in him I’m a mind with no body to hang it on! Moloch who spooked the natural joy clean outta me, scared me stiff! Moloch I’m walkin’ out on! Wake up in Moloch, mate! Light pourin’ outta the sky! Moloch! Moloch! Robot units, stacked up like battery hens! burbs ya can’t even see! treasuries picked down to the bones! blind capitals! industries straight outta hell! whole nations like ghosts! loony bins nobody can knock down! granite cocks! bombs the size of a house! The whole flamin’ works! They busted their guts liftin’ Moloch up to Heaven! Footpaths, trees, wirelesses, tonnes of the stuff! liftin’ the city up to Heaven, and Heaven’s real, mate, it’s all round us, everywhere ya look! Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! the lot of it gone down the American river, washed out to sea! Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of touchy-feely bulldust! Breakthroughs! over the river! flips ‘n crucifixions! gone down in the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! Ten years of screamin’ like animals, and blokes toppin’ themselves! Minds! Brand-spankin’-new loves! A mad generation! smashed up on the rocks of Time! Real holy laughter in the river! They saw the lot! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They said hooroo! They jumped off the roof! off to be on their own! wavin’! carryin’ flowers! Down the river! out into the street! Fair breaks yer heart, that does.