Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Tune Walk (36 titles)

No map, but lost in thought? No worries.

Come, sit. Listen to the psychedelic stereo, as it casts
reflets dans l'eau.

Just float on the melody.

It's that simple, really, I'd like you to join me.

It would be a shame to spend the day without you.

We can walk, ride on falling leaves
or upon a brass elephant, take your pick. I prefer to walk.

The saxophone is moanin'
as the foggy morning
breaks into a bright day.

Share with me the sun as it
melts, painting the soundscape gold.

There is no uncertainty
that there is a delicate sense of balance in this dimension.

Within the sonic woods,
musical notes bloom into tessellating flowers,
which confess
true love from the future.

Blaze a path with your funk blaster.

Through loud pipes,
it spews forth the wildfire
of a universal language.

You can feel the mcfunk vibrations
creating an uncanny simulation of
humanity's heartache fetish.

Unnatural silence has faded
since day one, and will stay as such
until doomsday.

What about us, you ask?

I'm glad to let you know
that I know the truth.

The genesis of recorded sound
has granted, on impulse, relative immortality.

We must go on
countless walks.

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