#1
Yeah here am I am standing at the crest of a tallest hill with a trumpet in my hand & dark glasses on.
Bearded & bereted I proudly stand! but there are no eyes to see me. I send down cool sounds! but there are no ears to hear me. My lips they quiver in aether-emptiness! there are no hearts to love me.
Surely though through night’s gray fog mist of delusion & dream & the rivers of tears that flow like gelatin soul-juice some apathetic bearer of paranoid-ic peyote vision (or some other source of inspiration) shall hear the song I play.
