Broken Reality Under A Full Moon, But More So The Flickering Lights Of Neon Orange, The Incessant Humming Of Broken Electrical Wires, And The Shadows Cast In An Empty Lot Of A Mint Steeple Chapel Words Litter Pages Like Coke Cans Strewn Chaotically By The Curb. It Is The Year 2021, And Not Many Are Left Sane. For There Is No Longer Sanity. Listening To The Rhythmic Breathing For If We Are Honest, It Is 1974.
The Silent Singer 