This is my latest nonsense rant...

Everything is meaningless, and has no real point other than to circumvent the thirst of the masses for recycling knowledge. An Easter Woman is the perfect love for a picnic boy. At the end of home, I see Amber and her Japanese watercolors. Secrets die in terror, and a red rider becomes my second wife.

One of the suburban bathers I meet in paradise is named Floyd.. such dimples and toes as he has! Ah, heaven is for the nameless souls.. love leaks out even as they perfect the act of being polite. Tragic bells summon the medicine man, and the loss of innocence is made stark in a simple song.

There are ups and downs, and as for my possessions? Give it to someone else, who is not a phantom. I go by the philosophy of "less, not more".. especially since my work is so behind right now.

Birds in the trees signal a handful of desire, and moisture as well. Love is a troubled man singing "la la" about loneliness. A nice old man is drawn by the talk of creatures, and we trace things with our fingertips in between dreams. Margaret Freeman predicts the coming of the crow.. yes, this is what we were like when we were young.



(I should note that this was inspired by the track listing on the back of my brother's Commercial Album.. 40 tracks by the Residents)