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A letter to my brothers. There comes a point in which every man must step up and peer out at the landscape of their life in which they are responsible for shaping. We are leaders, fathers, brothers, artists and artisan and that comes with a certain weight.
By day break, this scapegoat must be hung public if Tragedy to stake claim on whether its a performance or execution. Similar when played plain. Broken soapbox snapshot. Fits the song. See Victor's monster repair his heart in final breaths because he's fated to stitch it wrong. Thus the comedy of an "Orphaned Child of A Bastard Movement" God bless the spare parts that willed him into moving. "Fall in line" where? Even the blood splatter creates music. Drips like wine into river carved by despair yet followed by the stares. You can see the mask crack! Veil fell. Heartbreak is abstract and every king will get laughed at. Diptych: Love/pain. Heaven is past that. Life turns a new leaf when one reaches the last laugh. At great lengths, triumph will wear a muddy, bloody uniform. A truth often linked to ships destined to sink but made it to harbor. Watch saplings reaching, releasing golden notes reading "Nature still mates with the Father." Do you feel the thunder in the darkness? Sonic sunlight that sucks hope from the sky in orange, purple. When properly done right, this image is triptych to illustrate these misfits. Muses for my neurosis dancing on top of my battered instinct: one was a jackal, one was asshole, one was angel whose halo was really a shiny lasso. When the gallery opened to the audience all they saw was a mirror. Laughter... because that observation reminds me of my last flow. If/When the top is ever reached, I'll memorize where the grass grows and dedicate part of my life to watering where that grass choked. The difference between the truth and a lie is a lie has to make sense and no one cares where the money comes from if it pays rent. There is only one way to be honest and a million ways to take it (with) corresponding faces for heights un-trekked by geniuses to cowardly to take them. No, this is the beginning to a road of ellipses because not even a dog will sit down until he's finished.
from Gunship Diplomacy,
released October 21, 2016
Produced by Analog(ue) Tape Dispenser
Lyrics/Vocals by SKECH185