Sailing on Frequencies

Global oceans, graves. Compressed bi-polar sweetness. Welts from surging tempers, religious fits and remorse. Of course we have to sail upon each others frequencies. Perform with skulls. Confess to the barbed-wire tails of jack asses. Rebuild, remorse. We the pagans. Scum of the foragers. Isolate contempt, cradle hate in savage emotive seas. This panting scalded patience serves as our deliverer, servant. Equality?

Rochester NY

Cat

Check This Out

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9eFErQ0OJJk&feature=mfu_in_order&list=ULIf this works it is my 2nd video to one of my songs. If it doesn't...I suck. :P

The Breakfast Table

She closed her eyes at the breakfast table.
Her lips slightly evinced her hearts pastoral
praise. The words I never knew but I
could feel her spirit true. Toasted
rye with marmalade and grapefruit juice
seemed sacred there, raptured for the
moment. In those few minutes each
morning she seemed so close to being
free. I had only to ask, and she would
have shared, would have lead me to her
peace. Instead my vanity was in her
grace, my greed in her beauty. She
closed her eyes at the breakfast table.

FOH

Add caption

Don't No - Lyrics.

Because ya'll just have no idea what the heck I'm talking about. And by "ya'll" I mean my one visible and my one invisible followers.

Tripped on a dollar hit my head on a dime
Stained my white collar lost track of the time
Asked a smiling dragon for a smoke and some change
He didn't mind me begging but he thought I looked strange

Boarded up the windows telephoned my old man
Never left Los Altos went and bought a van
Wiped my feet on the mat that welcomed me home
Left a tip for the doorman left a note for the storm


Shivered like feathers on a frost bitten hen
Fell from the rafters swapped a loon for a yen
Unbuttoned my blue collar - reached for the time
Spent my last dollar losing track of a dime