It aint like no ones done this before But how can you tire of beautiful chords In the fifties In Tenessee Where my love was born Two young men upped and crossed the yard both cold cos it was rainin hard. One of them turned said…

A pop song without the 'ular' about the struggle of the addict and the feeling of obsession.

some light rhyming with a twist. I played the organ loop with the cord plugged in the out jack and couldnt hear what i was playing. that was a formative moment for me artistically. When I realized I didn't want to control how each song sounded…

weird beat poet sounding vocals accoustic meanderings some strange accompaniment.

all is mad/all is mind/all just is

hold a census/ and a samba no one cares/ about uganda do you wanna/ marijuana its the cola/ of the nation

rant ,soliloquy, rant amb rock

shoop shoop

zoozaza its all a brujaja ha hahahahahaha/ the bands width is not a cummerbund/ words to squeeze out the imperfect/ bright lites fandango oh so fun/ where is the allah/ messiah/ the jah? as a species/ we fall to peaces/ our pretense, provoked…

it art its love of course/ the source of a divorce/ if your droolin/its the new sexy/