Thursday, August 30, 2007

Reality broke back there.
We’re definitely going back where we came from.

I have thirst.
Tube of Life.

My hands are thick and hairy.
My feet are crafted clubs.
My knickers never get dirty,
Ornamented in this Terrapin patch.

Bucolic. (byoo-call-lick)
Remember when we were walking,
And the sound of our steps fell in time.
Sampling the strolling sound scape,
We started touching and tapping.
Energy both yours and mine.
That’s Natural rhythm.
Easy as it comes, easy as it goes.
Casually tap into the effervescent energy in the rhythm in the
deepest neonforest.

Constantly contacting condescending constituents,
crooks, cramming coerced, convoluted concepts,
conveniently condoned, and conditional upon one’s candid-acy.
Coming completely out of nowhere.

Murky Love,
Live from Mercury.
The mercurial dove dove off a monkeys back; hide.

Makin’ dreams come true
Is all we ever do.