dead dog turncoat

fields of leaves

and rubies

some red ants crawling across

raw meat and valentines

bird calls

razor blades

an ending with nothing to take with you.

Wise up.

I want to be paranoid

I want to talk to myself

I want to be in the corner

I have to be weird

It's the only thing I know how to do.

Well, at least

by a margin.

Tone, timbre and some other bullshit.

Shit sounds like shit.

Plastic

Dry out your insides

and let the spider dance its

needle hands across the map.

Some scissors.

Honor the foot on the pedal.

the press

the dead feelings

the dumb crackheads upstairs

We live until we die.

Then you're just dead.

Misnomers by definition don't exist.
There are no mistakes.
Someone just lights a match and at least one witness survives.

Wetsuit.

Sound Map.

super highs - looking at white curtains (9/20k)
highs - looking at the glass (2.5/8k)
high mids - looking at the window (600hz/2k)
low mids - looking at the window frame (200/550hz)
lows - looking at the wall (80/190hz)
sub - looking at the floor (20/63hz)

Midland 07