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1. |
The scene sets the scene
05:00
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2. |
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3. |
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4. |
Organ for Hire
11:22
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The key is descending flights
Pedals coursing elongated obliqueness...
These steps to Parnassus
really Fux me up/
But deferring to dialogue
maybe directness
will turn those black frames...
for a glance/
A cardinal indoors
why shield their red with white
and in the back they sit
singing to be heard/
Was it those black strands?
Well no, not in color at first
but now i digress from the direct
...only in my worry nobody's there//
Tickle me ivory
to the tune of a pale goth in black
my stops will remain stuck
without those adept hands
and in those right hands
pedal me harder
but please sustain
so infrequently I'm seen and touched
that when I remember you
I become for higher//
Have you heard me screaming inside?
My wind wails through prosthetic pipes
and i only wish to protect my right
to be trampled and played by you/
Torture? yes actually indeed...
being pressed and letting ring out
speaking truths to you
but mostly to your deaf ears/
siz hours moving my keys by microns
only looking to taste that touch
but when i reached the hands
the hands would have none such/
Hey! Black hat!
Hey yeah you there
with an easy to love and die to air
will you let me be your... familiar black cat?/
The sky is the limit
and that is why the limit let up
let up! I said let up!
You'll over blow my bellows//
Tickle me ivory
to the tune of a pale goth in black
my stops will remain stuck
without those adept hands
and in those right hands
pedal me harder
but please sustain
so infrequently I'm seen and touched
that when I remember you
I become for higher//
*****Not in recording but part of original poem*****
Take shoes off
and stay a while
butcher beats on my body
I live a thousand lives in each depression/
Of keys that is...
but of depression
that too I know
alone forever in this cathedral loft/
Do you know how to whisper
and make a rose gold promise?
Because my rose goal is you
On this old rosewood bench/
Ever have the sense songs talk
but suddenly talk to you?
Well you know i'm talking to you!
Who else!?
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5. |
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Myth making machines
Now nobody knows
Our oscillating omens
Putridly penned poems
Questions qualm queens
Reaching rather rightly
Somebody said something
To tell time
Unless you have a better plan
we wait in perfect bliss
ten times
And step off the mountain anyways
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6. |
Gimp Jesus
02:56
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7. |
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8. |
Poem Letting
03:19
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Tithing tendrils
Muttering shouts sung pitchedly, leading to even plagality
But cadence can start or end a statement
it only takes a flip of flowing contrapuntal flowers to see everything is alright
and though my final cadence commenced and ended with mine ringing of...
Unison...
Well at least the world and voices around me coalesced into that plagal point
But as i wander off
Wondering again as i as soon forget things equally quickly remembered
That wind touches my cheeks
but not the breeze of a pedaling pipe in there
Organelles in multiplicity conjuring mythic mysteriums and a lovely haunting tone
I remember now that I am in my cathedral again
And to that...
Plagality, even to leading, pitchedly sung shouts/
///(and)///
Tithing tendrils
.
.
.
I wanted to stop there
but a skull of a hill
and its hell beneath reminded me
I probably actually wanted to stop before I even began
But so too I feel we all wanted to
No matter as i glance towards a string of rocks
Golgothic reminders sit most subtly on high days such as here
But there was bloody water, or at least water instead of blood
but luckily for me
My today began with a shot of spirits
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9. |
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10. |
Thanks
00:28
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