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Waves and silver lines are necessary. Angelic grammar - the minds of the Angels. The Angels of Schizophrenia thought I may have spoken. Thought I may have spoken. It feels like I am so on fire. Where does this fire burn from? I am becoming a writer not by decision, but by the lines I draw so intensely to the page. The visions. The art of the world. The master craftsmanship. It's surreal and gorgeous. Fluid for me to swim in. Like a deceiver or a reliever of fate. The morning is not yet here? Let the night stay more. At the height - past the vertical pinnacle. And we are all what it becomes and sees. A dense brain into which we all perform mind surgery to one another. Digging, always digging. These are cantos for the unarmed sailor.
released July 2, 2012
Lyrics by Johannah Henderson
Music by Tim Steffens & Skarab