A brief melodic interlude…
Previously the text of this post consisted of jumbled lyrics from a couple of songs about time and mortality.
That text has been replaced by what you are reading now.
Father cannot yell.
He hasn’t been born yet.
Due to an unexpected attack by deranged virus stricken malfunctioning fecal processing robo drones, a sudden retreat was necessary this week.
This post is quick and dirty. Made from a single mobile device and repetitious re working of the same material. Live to disk, repeat with last recording as the next primary source.
The most bled through mucky version was multitracked with the previous 3 iterations and saturated with post effects further still.
It sounds like poop, mostly. But the inspiration came from the moronic robotic shit eater that forced us from the previous position in the first place.
There would be more work applied to the file in this post if time allowed. This serves as a reminder that when your allotted time is up, your track is posted. Even if the work is not finished. Thus sayeth the lord, Jeebus. Especially if the work is not finished. Thus chimes in an angry, spiteful and petty G-d.
Another week closer to nothing.
This was recorded on Thursday, 2018 May 17.
Did we mention all the kids in Springfield are S.O.B.’s?
Oh, yes. That’s right. Several times already.