The most beautifully beat-up musical instrument of ’em all, surely? Perched rather problematically perhaps? Doubt it, had to have been a stereo… physical thing indeed – these peripheral and starking-mad people who fail to eagerly represent the human race. With their inept ability – able misinterpretations rather – to valiantly adhere to any aforementioned stance. We will walk taller than that – taller than all of these made-up, make-me-believe metaphors because, believe it or not, we are the sworn-in, chosen, cyclically sufficient heroes. Seen to be zero only so far from mediocre and above the beyond that, it will take God forsaken ear-achingly sufficient failings via these pedestrian people of their own mediocre and chosen accord to take us in any way terrifically asunder. Thunder stings both sings immediately near – both-through-and-in – our abhorrent fingernails, indeed
We push and we breathe ten times greater than can ever be possibly, quietly, fathomed and pristinely reimagined.
– “Inside it was I who was dancing to the feat of the beat of his forever instrumental feet.”