less than 5 days away and fit for human consumption

music cooked up illegally in a sound lab

1000 and 1 guitars in technicolour monochrome

alone and beyond this mortal plane of pain

the music sprinkles in free fall in a dream i chanced upon

in white  straits in black water below the treble cliffs a great bass sea

we are by the great coastlines of the pasts

surfing the conundra waves singing with those freaky meermaids

down by the sea in in my vesuvian vessel those BC nights i lived and i died

i am your sailor and your cardshark and your slave

i was your priest

now all these thoughts have swirled back upon me my songs

which always have been reflections from countless unknown memories

hear…they come to life ..!

the crashing minions of our great regime grooving in the chamber

the harassed singer grasping at strawberry whine and cinnamon fixes

stoned in his tomb his body of work falls apart

all these songs and more i bring to life

the american century where i roamed unbridled through my ladyfriends mind

you mean the songs of intrigue and passion and tragedy..?

oh yes the riverbed song of the cuckolded king

the in-space announcements en route to my lemurian hideaway

the din of the silverware in no gravity field

the sound of a bass guitar come to life and playing itself

the genius wallop that capsizes yer catamaran

sweet honey harmony rose would sink in lotus pool

we explore the arcane beauty of the desert shore

we enter the moist softness of song becoming one like none

inside the cocoon the tuning up has finally begun

the increased speed begins to bleed into a guitar

that transforms in storms of white chattering and pink shard noise

cut and diced and thrown into a sound salad

my words were copied from a tablet i found in my mind

zeus the crucifier of a womans desire appeared to me

like a spear his words tear thru my ears

he says you deserve to serve me

i describe the curve he threw me

i give this gift of music to you and your friends

he says in ancient greek

luckily i know a few words

i run with the music to a stream of all your dreams

i dive down down down deep to your bed inside all our heads

deep in your bed a live feed is fed ichor some perfect honey liquor

these songs you will apprehend as a memory or dream

quickly you will come to understand them

we reached in deep to catch these ones who would have remained elusive

in all your hearts in all our heads

the unadventurous must go on ahead

this music is my compartmentalised yet slender thread

with this golden cord attached to the central god our love

we sing of his devils his angels his nephilim and his monsters

we sing of the salesman but

by night a minotaur

in song come with us then into the labyrinth

further

deeper

octobre 17 like scarlets birthday

see you hear from you

again