Every radio in the house has been on for hours. Some of them are not even playing anything. It is just this static to parallel collisions of music bursting in and out my mind. Sing song voices attempt to lull me to bed as the white noise bursts and pops. Suddenly wild bird-like humanoids are dancing wildly in front of me. All of them are on fire and none of them are burning and they won't stop turning and turning and turning. The sky rips apart and weeps honey. The earth rips apart and eats honey. Venus flytraps explode from the ground with a vicious force and begin snapping up everything in site. Within moments buildings are gone. For years there has been some sort of evangelist or something on the television telling us this would happen. He hardly had a following but he cared enough to keep trying over and over, year upon year, to tell us. I like to think that someone, somewhere, is throwing him one last shindig as both a thank you and an apology.
MP3 :: GOBBLE GOBBLE - Eat Sun, Son
Website :: GOBBLE GOBBLE