August 26, 2010
in Category: Doom mooD, Noise poem, Soundworks
0 3292 0

A blaze did raise the heat for a moment, and then in a craze it was morning, a sun drenching of damp spirits, damp and laid out but not dampened or hampered, more like tempered by the cold steel of dew on bare feet..

What is real is the sum of what we feel, as a race and a species, evolution divides and rules, it does not suffer fools, cruel as cats with mice it’s only nice if you do its job, of trying to rob the blob of excess fat, that is that, enjoy the sunlight of morning, watch the sun rise high above all of your horizons..


Cassette concepts connoisseur

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