The noise rock metaphors of Sonic Jesus and the left hand path of traveling....

.....or, was the hobo Jesus Christ a lefty?

Neo-shoegaze alien psych rollin’ concrete slabdragger slicker wheels coughing sunshine, thunderstorms and fine art mirror dust keeping the midnight oils-a-moving, consistency, quality and gestalt like a shit factory graveyard shift repetitive legend of the Zen hands by the piece, smoke ‘em if you got ‘em cross the line high-tone accents. Genderless water-logged not twangless desert riffs below the mud cactus illuminated by a spotlight.

Pocket fulla cult vocal passengers drinking coffee and eating cherry pie noise-rock twin peaks style and keyboards catch that sunrise at yesterday’s parties it’s there everyday and just once, just once it shouldn’t be. A sunset missed too, like a hungry sasquatch kneeling by the river of plenty gathering, deceit and stretch those limbs ready for the races today.

On my way to dark roads Portland city of the lost morale, roses and sophisticated taste. Hope is just a word. A lot of things are just words like drama, catholic guilt and settle down my serial-killer-logistics-of-death friends with micro-violence snakebites, gravy and happiness is a burden livin’ by the noose, suicide systems and black tears.

We are connected by silence, dissolving boundaries, the ways of the noble wayward and the aged gracefully like plants and a library den mood, multiple textures, elegant silence and greenery blades in the park sometimes the color lets the music do it’s thing, calms and soothes magic potion psychedelic vibes horizontal and vertical like a hand me down vintage lamp and tools with the shamanic travels through the ears to the forest and water. Bring back the noise goods from 40 days and 40 nights year of the bum.

Slap in the face traveling solo acidic-Burroughsian no goodbyes don’t follow the round-trip chariot, not for the posers. Sonic movement tunnel-sound harmonies with mind movement all about the growth and process deathseed genre-jumping retro future style nowadays and the beauty of change, quicksand, adaptation, zero bozos saturation runnin’ the shadows alright alright alright. Geometry of lies with a whorehouse love trick of nature.

What do you think when the music’s over? I passed away coupla years ago save me…