Just some "stream of consciousness" thing I did when I was on acid back in November. It gives a good idea of my writing style, with the symbolism and my attempt to paint a clear image in the readers mind. It doesn't follow any pace really, but I also haven't tried to incorporate it to song.

With moonlight through the glass at 5AM and the house sighing after a summer of decay, cork-board covers the walls as vapors flow through the venetian blinds. 3,000 miles of hell only a phone call away. Disenfranchised adoptive bloodlines broken by judiciary mandate, rooted in selfishly watching the vacuum lights and the silent undulating in public school hallways. Thats beside the point, you see, there is no point. A to B is irrelevant when colors pour out of the 15-year-old audio system, carrying memories from the previous community.

Again with the early dawn moonlight, magnified by the combustion of pages from LA Confidential.

Another day is come, another trip through the wardrobe, but there is no lamppost, only ashes derived from the geographical location of interest to the winds of the saint. That saint hath blessed the adjacent path with similar warm colors stealing away with the green and tan. Commerce is halted by the exchange of such items as I use frequently in my exploration of the land in the wardrobe, in my subconscious.

You see, the foundations are strong, but riddled with aesthetically pleasing tones that come in sets of five. Pleasing, but lifeless and insipid.

The colors of the tetrahedral molecule cause me to grin. It reminds me of the blue moonlight I have so grown to love.

The spirit of Friday has taken me by the hand and fed me to the lines of ants taking advantage of their buffet horns and immature embouchure.

The algorithm dictates the forensic fugue that finds extravagant upholstery on turntables gesticulating from the cedar lectern.

Yeah, the LED lights are pretentious, but many people find the least common denominator hidden in the violent combination of illuminated spectrum to be somewhat soothing to the vocal chords in their quest to find domestic prosperity in assorted lend-lease contracts.