Another song I love. Nothing compares to Lou, though. Seasonal, will melt away soon!

Just a simple song about a horsey ride. Little me and my Alvarez, recorded on a single cheap MXL mic., no effects. -- Misty on my face is the love of gods calling me Ice upon my skin made more painful by this solitude Ride upon my broken steed…

Another song I love. Nothing compares to Lou, though. Seasonal, will melt away soon!

Leafless trees hung low in the cold. I saw myself kneel, fall, die all alone. No pity, no tears, no profound song. Just gone. The limbs of the trees broke in the wind. Worn and old from beckoning, again and again. But no god came. In the end…

Another song I love. Nothing compares to Lou, though. Seasonal, will melt away soon!

Leafless trees hung low in the cold. I saw myself kneel, fall, die all alone. No pity, no tears, no profound song. Just gone. The limbs of the trees broke in the wind. Worn and old from beckoning, again and again. But no god came. In the end…

This was recorded on an old cassette 4-track using a Carvin preamp and a couple of cheap Realistic microphones. Warning: I tried to sing.

... again ... for Randy. Memories of old magazines gathering dust on the shelves with things you never could let go of. Dirty chess sets hardly touched. Empty bottles of cheap scotch you never could get enough of. And it's a shameful world…

Leafless trees hung low in the cold. I saw myself kneel, fall, die all alone. No pity, no tears, no profound song. Just gone. The limbs of the trees broke in the wind. Worn and old from beckoning, again and again. But no god came. In the end…

Leafless trees hung low in the cold. I saw myself kneel, fall, die all alone. No pity, no tears, no profound song. Just gone. The limbs of the trees broke in the wind. Worn and old from beckoning, again and again. But no god came. In the end…