A wild world of night. whispering in the the broken glass lying on the floor. Speaking of secrets. Thousands of broken shards creating a beautiful new universe in burnt out building. Fire in soup can to warm hands. Friend for mice and swift moving shadows. Laughing in the darkness. twenty seven fingers poking through end of woolen gloves. An alchemist. A poet. A junky. A dream.
Side A- Mike T. http://www.mediafire.com/?hdiizcvrj1n
Side B- Connor http://www.mediafire.com/?yvqwzenm1rn
What about the words that travel above the ones you hear with delicate human ears spoken with delicate human mouth? Spoken with pain so high only heard by dogs even with tails between legs suiciding on chicken bones or jumping from cliffs. Cats refuse to land on their feet after hearing. This is my spoken-unheard pain. You could hear it in my eyes if your pride would only let you look. Until then the spiders flee the walls with bleeding ears. Evolution forbidding man from seeing himself. From hearing the obvious-never-secret. And I can’t speak that I want you to hear it. So I sit silent mind vibrating shaking the walls