A song ever in need of a title.

The theme from the novel Leadfoot Angels.

With the winds of creation streaking their faces, our heroes take flight into the deepest recesses of the Genreverse. Come join them.

An heroic jam for an heroic character.

When all is said and done, we all walk home alone.

Get up! Get down! Now, get busy!

After the long night, too much beer, too much conversation, too many memories. It's Sunday Morning, folks.

Beware the back alleys and loading docks where the lines become blurred and we all become lost.

Ah, the sad beauty of a lovely day down the town. Come walk with us.

And we're off! Into the multifaceted realms of literature and adventure. Strap in and hang on, it's gonna get bumpy!

Punk rock goodness for all you leather types.

We all sing the song, caffeine-maddened hipsters drunk on double espresso. Chatter along.

Call that dark, feels cold to me? And I'm waiting for the sound of dead leaves falling.