"Mind the Felon" (in world gone bananas) is a dark and poetic social commentary song, about the viral dangers of ripple effect in a mad duck universe 🦆  

This song lyrics are inspired by the (highly relevant) works of Paul-Claude Racamier, a French psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, who explored the dangerous nature of duckastic human behaviors and the universal phenomenon of double-standards and paradoxalization in the book "Les Perversions narcissiques" (The Narcissistic Perversions)...  fOOL story (my lyrics™️) below:

--
Mind the felon, yeah, the charm so sly,
Crafts a world of webs, while you wonder why.
Says one thing, does another—oh, that double spin,
A loop-de-loop of truth, to keep you caged within.

(Chorus)
Paradoxalize, hypnotize, flip it on its head,
Reality’s a ripple, messing with your cred.
Keepin’ you guessin’, tangled up in dread—
Watch out, watch out, that’s a mind-meld fed.

Swaps the stories, rewrites the past,
Tells you your version of truth won’t last.
Gaslightin’ bright like neon glow,
Makes you doubt the things you know.

Oh, here we go—emotions exploited,
Fear ignited, confidence voided.
Got you swayin’, hangin’ on tight,
Twirled in circles, no end in sight.

(Chorus)
Paradoxalize, hypnotize, twistin’ it just so,
Warpin’ up the blame like a magic show.
Sayin’ it’s your fault while dodgin’ their own—
Oh, watch out, watch out, they claim that throne.

Kind and cruel, a cycle insane,
Keeps you locked in love, then writhin’ in pain.
Tender words? Or threats in disguise,
Keepin’ you hooked on the look in their eyes.

Mind the felon, yeah, tread real light,
Catch the flicker, catch the fight.
When sense slips, and vision blurs,
Mind the felon—beware those words.

Mind the Felon (one) • JAZZsutra

A (few variations of a) song dedicated to all truth-tellers (some of them born gay) victims of dictatorial oppression, with much love... vive la Vérité, vive la Résistance!

"(I Wanted to Be a) Poem" is an experimental jazzy psychedelic song I wrote around the quote “I thought I wanted to be a poet but basically, I wanted to be the poem”; it is lyrically structured after the song “Summertime”, and directly inspired by the following essay about Jaime Gil de Biedma—an introverted, humble poet who lived under the Franco dictatorship, during the Spanish Inquisition (early last century)…

-
“Perhaps poetry is best minted under pressure. Poetry that lasts. (...)

Jaime Gil de Biedma lived under Franco. Born in 1929 in Barcelona, Biedma was six when Federico Garcia Lorca was killed by Franco’s troops in Granada. Famously, the story goes that as they shot Lorca his murderers said: “Three shots in the ass for Garcia Lorca for being a faggot.” His body was never found. (…)

Silence carves these poems. He wrote his poems under a dictator who was famous for saying, “You are master of what you don’t say.” Maybe all poems are carved by silence. Think Dickinson. Think Hopkins. Silence can equal life. Here silence is particularly historic in a way it no longer is. Franco shut Spain up. The ground rich with unidentified corpses. Homosexuality denied in a regime that aligned itself with the conservative Catholic Church.

But poetry. Poetry provides a passport to transcendence when pressures seem unsurmountable: and more than thrice a poetry created under pressure in silence trumps death.

As Biedma began to put pen to paper, what preceded him was daunting. All the major poets had vanished: Machado on a death march, Lorca shot, Hernandez dead in prison, Cernuda fled to Mexico and never returned. Decades rolled on, censorship reigned, and torpid inertia smothered art. (...)

Poetry remains indestructible. Poetry outlasts Franco and AIDS. So long as men and women can breathe museums will preserve artifacts and a poet like Biedma will add to the record of what life was like under oppression.”

[06] I Wanted to Be the Poem - Bluesy Burlesque JAZZ

This BLUES to JAZZ to DUB to Cello INDIE to gratitude MANTRA GROWsutra EP is for humans who carem and dare to be brave... and sometimes may even "weep, just knowing dogs exist"! Fair warning: it makes my heart howl, loud and long and deep inside :) 

Lyrics inspired by a friend who triggered the (good:) remembering of my WOW feelings as a teenager, after reading Herman Hesse's fabulous tale of the "Steppenwolf"--a powerfool story of not knowing yet knowing, that despair is as glorious as laughter, and tender wonder is simply everything!
 
I also want to dedicate this one to Lotus (the dog:), and my 2 all-time favorite women in the entire world, Alev and Celinha, who happened to meet in Istanbul tonight. They sent me sincere tender love, and I really felt it! And so now, I just want to take a minute to share how much I care for them, too, even if I'm not always the best at sharing it. I believe they know I care, but I want to write it here anyway, because it's alway a good idea to remember what we remember we feel, and... I love you so very much, for the bright, tender, loving humans you are, and all the light and win-wins you shared with me (and so many others)--I even weeped a little, just knowing you exist #ingratitude ✨

--
@bananasutra "Tune in the Tender" lyrics 

I still care  
I still cry  
And maybe  
That’s why I’m still here  

They said this world is mad  
I nodded, not in rage  
But in quiet wonder  
When light hits trees just right  
It breaks me open, soft and bright  
And yeah  
Some days I weep  
Just knowing dogs exist  

I’m not broken  
Just tuned  
Tuned… differently  

Tune in the tender  
Don’t numb it down  
You’re not too much  
You’re still sound  

They call it fragile  
But it’s forged in love  
Steel that won’t go cold  
Even when the world begs  

I remember that book  
A howl in paper skin  
A mirror made of myth  
It didn’t teach  
It reminded  
I am legion  
Laughter and despair  
Wolf and wanderer  
Cynic, saint  
Divine mess  
Holy pulse  

Tune in the tender  
Don’t dim that glow  
Your tears still mean  
You’re tuned to soul  

When I cry  
It’s not weakness  
It’s ritual  
A remembering  
That I’m still here  
That I’m still real  

Tears are proof  
I haven’t let  
This mad mean world  
Make me small  

I can’t fix it all  
But I can sing  
Whisper to the dark  
You’re not alone  

And someone  
Somewhere  
Will hear that tune  
In the tender…  


[02] Tune in the Tender • LOFI JAZZsutra

The more I use the SUTRAS in my daily life, the more I find them helpful—they not only allow me to increase my own awareness (of my intent, perspective, and focus or priority at a given point in time), they also allow me to influence my thoughts and feelings, by rooting them into a chosen, conscious mindset, to better regulate and balance my moods… and this song is a great example of me doing just that.

Originally written as a mellow trip-hopy BOWsutra song, a humble reflection on unconditional love and the concept of death, this adaptation of the song shifts the energy into SHOWsutra and FLOWsutra—to honor the wild love and lighthearted fun flowing energy dogs aka our BFFs bring into our lives, forever ❤️‍🔥 

This song is like a mighty power punk rock pep talk reminding me/us balls matter, and “Grass is for pooping, and also rolling” LOL ;)

—
​⁠ @bananasutra  lyrics

[Verse 1]
Oh, the wagging tail's like a sermon in motion,
The nose in the wind, a lesson in devotion.
They give us patience, they show us trust,
They teach us to sniff before making a fuss.
Oh, why rush? Why stress?
When every breeze is a brand-new guest?

[Chorus warm, kind, quirky]
Blessed be the dogs!
They know, they blow, they grow, they glow.
Blessed be the show!
Dogs love, dogs live, dogs let it flow.

[Verse 2]
They say, “Watch with your balls, listen with your nose,
“Every tree’s a story, and puddle got prose.”
“Grass is for pooping, and also rolling”
“And a belly-up rub in the sun is the best thing"
“Don’t hold a grudge, don’t waste the fun”
“Chase what you love, watch your balls run!”

[Chorus]
Blessed be the dogs!
They know, they blow, they grow, they glow.
Blessed be the show!
Dogs love, dogs live, dogs let it flow.

[Bridge]
Life is a game of fetch my heart
Throw it far, far, make it an art
Chasing no fame, not asking why
Sniffing the ground… I swear, it's nearby.

Patience in a wag,
Pardon in the bag,
And gratitude, dog attitude
That’s a full-body wiggle of joy
like love leaped in the middle, oh boy.

[Final Chorus]
Blessed be the dogs!
They know, they blow, they grow, they glow.
Blessed be the show!
Dogs love, dogs live, dogs let it flow.

(Let it flow… Let it flow…)

☰☰☰

[02] Blessed Be The Dogs • SHOWsutra Post-Punk Burlesque ROCK

... because one must wonder: what if there was only, truly, essentially one common root problem with the world, and it was not capitalism, not communism, not imperialism, not racism, not sexism, not elitism--but(t) simply, always, #narcissism aka bratty bully twats with big lame ego problemos¿⁈ What if, heh? Yeah... #truestory 🕳️🐇💨
--
@bananasutra “Narcissism” lyrics written as parody of “Ain’t No Sunshine” (by Bill Withers)

Verse 1:
Narcissism it’s like craving all the power
It craves control, every single hour
It’s where ego grows, dividing the holy  land
Drawing lines in the sand, claiming upper hand.

Chorus:
Narcissism, see, all the 'ism starts this way,
Fueling all the hate, pushing love away.
In the heart of pride, there’s a bitter seed,
Narcissism’s why we bleed.

Verse 2:
Fascism rising, fueled by selfish pride,
Imperialism spreading far and wide.
Elitism whispers, “I’m better than the rest,”
But it's ego-driven lies, or newspeak, at best.

Chorus:
Narcissism, see, all the 'ism starts this way,
Fueling all the hate, pushing love away.
In the heart of pride, there’s a bitter seed,
Narcissism’s the whole creed.

Bridge:
If we could turn away from the mirror,
See the world a little clearer.
Let go of chains that ego binds,
Love and peace would free our minds.

Verse 3:
Racism lingers, blinded by our fears,
Sexism’s voice cringing through the years.
Every ‘ism thrives when we bet on pride,
It's narcissism's hold that keeps us locked inside.

Chorus:
Narcissism, see, all the 'ism starts this way,
Fueling all the hate, pushing love away.
In the heart of pride, there’s a bitter seed,
Narcissism’s why we bleed.

Outro:
But if we rise, let empathy be our guide,
Tear down the walls, watch the love magnify.
Though ego’s the root, perhaps we can see,
Narcissism fade… when we choose to be free.
--

#questioneverything #questionandanswer #indiemusic #aivoice #blowsutra #bananasutra #narcissisticabuse #narcissisticabuserecovery

[06] All Lame-Isms (Queen of Authentic) - BLOWsutra FOLK

Poetry (Nah Lie) • GROWsutra Ragga Mantra DUB

This EPx15 builds up from Indie LoFi, to Blues, and Burlesque Punk Rock. It quotes the newly rebranded "Department of War" Secretary's official announcement speech. The cover features "Operation Blitz", the shameless Naz! offensive nomenclature used by the government to designate their latest mass-deportations initiative #truestory.

DHS—i.e. the U.S. "Department of Homeland Security"—has launched a military operation called “Operation Midway Blitz” targeting undocumented immigrants in Chicago, Illinois. The news coverage spans AP, Washington Post, Reuters, and The Guardian—all information sources as real as reliable.

Yet, when I shared a screenshot of the real DHS tweet announcing ‘Operation Midway Blitz’ to chatGPT, it called it fake news! WHY? Cuz the truth sounded too fasc!st to be real, sadly, obviously, that is why... because DHS shamelessly chose to name their latest large-scale deportation crackdown after "The Blitz"—i.e. the Nazi Germany’s bombing campaign that terrorized civilians. Yup. Blitz. On U.S. soil. Targeting immigrants. The bot doubted it because it was too extreme to believe, which imho, literally proves just how extreme it actually is!

So here’s the question of the day: If it sounds too fascist to be true—but it’s true—
how far gone are we already?! 🇺🇸

☩ ☩ ☩

@bananasutra (aka the Better Bananas Bureau of Peace) lyrics "It’s War, My Friend"

[Intro]
“Maximum lethality… 
not tepid legality…” (*)
They changed the name, 
but not the game… 

[Verse 1]
The shield became a sharpened blade,
The dove was shot, the deal betrayed.
They smiled and switched the words they use,
Then blamed the blood on evening news.

[Chorus]
It’s not defense — it’s war, my friend,
No truth to guard, no rules defend.
They paint the crime in red, white, blue,
And sell it back as brave and true. 

[Verse 2]
They built the tanks on stolen dreams,
Then fed us fear in silent streams.
The court was blind, the laws grew thin,
So violence marched its power in.

[Verse 3]
They stripped the schools to fund the fight,
Then prayed for peace beneath the blight.
They called it strength, I call it fraud,
A wolf that hides behind the law.

[Bridge – Dreamy, echoing tone]
When war gets dressed in Sunday best,
Who dares to ask, “Who cleans the mess?”
When war is peace and law is bent,
The truth is just a false pretense. 

[Repeat Chorus]
It’s not defense — it’s war, my friend,
No truth to guard, no rules defend.
They paint the crime in red, white, blue,
And sell it back as brave and true. 

☩ ☩ ☩

(*) WTH "Maximum Lethality, Not Tepid Legality" actually means??!
This is the stark, official statement made by Pete Hegseth, i.e. the newly rebranded American "Secretary of War"... By saying "Maximum lethality", he emphasizing his intention to deploy overwhelming force and power. And "Not tepid legality" is clealrly a d!ck-jab at what he sees as legal constraints that are weak or overly cautious-indicating more military actions, with fewer legal handcuffs. He also said "Violent effect, NOT politically correct" (for real), underlining the prioritization of forceful outcomes over worrying about optics, cultural sensitivities, or so-called "woke" norms. Long story short, the fasc!st Quack administration is making things clear (for once, ha): this isn't about defense or diplomacy. It's about offense, authoritarian purpose, and unapologetic strength. 

Blessed be the Peace fools 🕊️


[15] It's War, My Friend • QUACKsutra Psychedelic Punk ROCK

If this song got you shrugging, smirking, or squirming, man, please pause... and tell me why? 

🩸🩸🩸

@bananasutra lyrics:

[Intro]  
They say it’s “too much.”  
Too bloody.  
Too messy.  
Too loud.  
Too real.  
So I ask…

[Verse 1]  
Why’s it taboo to talk of blood,  
When half the world’s got cycles that flood?  
Why’s it shameful to name a cramp,  
But not to wave a warlord’s stamp?

Why is “discharge” more feared than lies?  
Why do men squirm while a woman dries—  
her tears, her womb, her sleepless nights,  
while they debate her basic rights?

[Chorus]  
Taboo for who?  
Who made the rules?  
Who taught us shame  
in sterile schools?  
It ain’t biology that’s the crime—  
It’s silence weaponized through time.  

Taboo for who?  
'Cause I’m not scared—  
I’ll sing what’s real  
since they don’t dare.

[Verse 2]  
Why is menopause met with a shrug,  
while old white men get pills to plug  
their shriveled pride with pharma might,  
but women sweat through silent nights?

Why is "hormonal" used as a slur,  
when the whole damn system *depends* on her?  
Why don’t they teach us bone will thin?  
Why ain’t that in the doc’s quick spin?

Why is a womb a ticking clock  
unless it births, then it’s forgot?  
Why is my pain dismissed as flair—  
while men’s complaints get urgent care?

[Bridge]  
It’s not taboo 'cause it’s grotesque,  
it’s taboo 'cause it shows who’s next.  
It shows resilience, mess, and might—  
and that’s what gives the boys a fright.

[Interlude]  
Let’s be honest.  
It’s not about discomfort.  
It’s about control.  
And they’re losing it.

[Final Chorus]  
Taboo for who?  
I call your bluff.  
Your squeamish pride?  
Ain’t good enough.  
This ain’t shame—it’s sacred truth.  
It’s guts and fire and ancient proof.

Taboo for who?  
I name the cost—  
Of every silence  
and line we’ve crossed.  
So take your fear and go regroup—  
the grown-up talk is in this loop.

[Outro]  
If it makes you flinch,  
it probably matters.



[14] Men-Oh-Pause • GROWsutra I Burlesque You Not Psychedelic Punk ROCK

Blight not plight is the rhyme of the day, at least in my good conscience. What's yours? 

If you're not mourning #freedomofspeech & #empathy in Murica... or wondering why the government openly chooses to use WW2 Naz! Germany nomenclature to name their official Homeland Security (aka ICE) Operations (e.g. "Operation Midway Blitz" in Chicago, IL), your intellectual ability to connect the historica dots and think for yourself, with basic, fair, logical questions, is clearly, direly lacking--to say the least 🤐🇺🇸 

I wonder what Vladdy thinks about the ostentatious new gold bitcoin statue Donnie erected in D.C., and what the new $100,000 fee just imposed on individual H1B visas is going to finance.. oh my #truestory

---
@bananasutra lyrics (same as vol. 01)

[Chorus / Hook]
But(t) who’s your Vladdy in the dark?
Whose whispers leave a bloody mark?
Whose fingers grab... poossies won’t bite!
Who rules as king of sleepless nights?

[Verse 1]
Who smirks and snarks at crimson moons?
Who swims with sharks, and Looney Tunes?
Whose daddy barks like death is glee,
Like mercy’s just empathy pee?

Like love is weak, and violence, glory…
No gloves, no shame, just pure tyranny.
Like ghost-tales bound to hell’s allegiance…
Who throws tantrums for obedience?

[Chorus / Hook]
Oh, who’s your Vladdy in the dark?
Whose whispers leave a bloody mark?
Whose fingers grab... poossies won’t bite!
Who rules as king of sleepless nights?

[Verse 2]
What kind of daddy plays this game, 
Like sheer cruelty had no name? 
Who hides the truth, and praises fight,  
Burying secrets in plain damn sight?

Bloody kids, and crimson breath…
Deadly lies, in place of faith.
Monsters fed on frost and war,
Wrath in silence. Rotten core.

[Chorus]
So, who’s your Vladdy in the dark?
Whose whispers leave a bloody mark?
Whose fingers grab… poossies won’t bite!
Who rules as king of sleepless nights?

[Verse 3]
Hypocrites dare to don this guise,
Trumping the truth like freedom lies…
Feigning care, fake tender song,
Reigning with rage that lasts too long.

Just dry riddles in poisoned air,
Big bill that kills, but no one dares...
Ask your daddy: what’s the endgame,
Besides this nonsense, blame, and shame?

[Final Chorus – Haunting]
Who’s your Vladdy?
Where goes our fate? 
Who taught your tongue to bite and bait? 
Who bled your heart to make you numb, 
And told you control was the sum?

[Outro – Haunting Psychedelic Echoes]
Tell me, Donnie... 
C’mon, baby… 
Who’s your Vladdy? 
Who’s your Vladdy?...

Who's Your Vladdy BLOWsutra Psychedelic Burlesque Punk ROCK

“Ironic Moronic Eugenics” EPx8 flows from DUB to FOLK to BLUES and ends with my new favorite psychedelic politics genre: Burlesque Punk ROCK 🤘
  
This song was inspired by a great @pbs "American Experience" #documentary (you can  watch on YouTube for free) about “The #eugenics Crusade” that happened in the early century—i.e. an American elitist propaganda campaign, which (literally) inspired some of the horrific WW2 fasc!st practices, prevented Anne Frank to be saved from the holocaust by emigrating to the U.S., and allowed multiple states of the so-called "land of the free" to let pseudo-scientific, elitist wannabe pundits (aka d!cks;) sterilize women, without consent, until the 1970s 🇺🇸

My highlight was learning the world #moron was actually invented by a prominent, pseudo-scientist top daddy of the #eugenics movement (named Goddard), to qualify functional "imbeciles", aka "idiots" deemed too “feeble-minded” (sic) to behave “morally” 🥸 Ahem.

And now, I just can’t get over the dire #IRONY of it all‼️  

☤☤☤

@bananasutra lyrics👇

[Verse 1]
They said, “oh Let’s fix the human race,
with White “heroes”, with higher grace…
Declared “Morons” lacked a moral core,
But guess who proved to live the lore?

Oh dear, watch out for fanatics
Their fear wrapped up in politics.
They called it smart, it’s moronic.
Feeble brain fart, basic dickshtick…

[short psychedelic banjo riff break]

[Chorus]
It’s so ironic, it’s comedic, 
The Eugenics gang gone moronic!
Their Holy mission turned demonic,
Ivory towers of neurotic.

Tragi-comic, psychedelic,
Their “cure” was just sociopathic.
Played with lives like flies, robotic,
Sick freaks with cold lies, so toxic.

[Verse 2]
Sold cheap charts as genetics,
No consent, just black magic,
Sterilized dooms made juridic,
Weaponized lies gone ballistic.

Played God with eugenic picks,
No soul, just fake arithmetic.
Bold narcissistic metrics,
Buried truth with broken ethics.

[Bridge – Psychedelic Shift]
Labeled dreamers as being “sick”
Named the poets “too erratic,”
Libeled light as “problematic,”
Told us shit so plain idiotic,

[Chorus]
It’s so ironic, it’s comedic, 
The Eugenics gang gone moronic!
Their Holy mission turned demonic,
Ivory towers of neurotic.

Tragi-comic, psychedelic,
Their “cure” was just sociopathic.
Played with lives like flies, robotic,
Sick freaks with cold lies, so toxic.

[Outro psychedelic 🥂]
So here’s to facts, historic, tragic,
Remembering Eugenic logic.
Elite’s egos sunk titanic,
Left a trail of psychopathic...

Fools confusion, “pure blood” of pricks, 
bad delusions, mad circus freaks, 
Same old story, ludicrous dicks, 
fake news glory, ominous, EEEEEkSS

—

#bananasutracabaret #aimusic #dubnation #morons (matter;)


[04] Ironic Moronic Eugenics • BLOWsutra Psychedelic Banjo Psybass Bluegrass BLUES

“Easy (Death Is Nothing At All)” is a rare #bowsutra song inspired by a quote about death, from Henry ScottHolland (27 January 1847 - 17 March 1918), a Regius Professor of Divinity at the University of Oxford:

"Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am cut of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well."

 ❣  ❣  ❣ 
@bananasutra lyrics:

[Verse 1]
Never think I’m gone mon chéri,
Hear me sing, feel the sweet sweet swoon,
Everything’s just as it always be,
I’ll be back with you real soon.

[Chorus]
Breathe easy, baby, easy,
Life means all it ever meant.
Breathe slowly, deep, easy peasy,
No need for grief, it’s love misspent.

[Verse 2]
Hear me whisper your name, darling
Sing it just the way we would.
Death don’t need no solemn crying,
Let it breathe just like it should.

[Chorus]
Breathe easy, baby, easy,
Life means all it ever meant.
Breathe slowly, deep, easy peasy,
No need for grief, it’s love misspent.

[Bridge]
Please laugh like nobody is watching 
Smile when you think of me.
Nothing can ever kill our loving, 
We’re as near as near can be.

[Verse 3]
I am right here, feel me singing,
Forever flying in time,
Life’s a wild trip, never-ending,
Dancing with the rhythm and rhyme.

[Chorus]
I’m easy, oh, I’m easy,
There’s no shadow, there’s no gloom.
Breathe with me, let me make it easy,
I’m right here with you, watch us bloom

[Outro]
Oh, it’s easy… easy peasy…
All is well, my dear, mon chéri…

 ❣  ❣  ❣ 


[03] Easy (Death Is Nothing At All) • BOWsutra Kindness is in the Depth Dubby BLUES

… because life on earth is a Psychedelic Cabaret, and “music is the only religion that delivers the goods” (like Frank said). 

To be clear, all I really know is I dunno shit about fck (like Socrates said:)—music and songwriting included. But(t) I feel it, the music, so damn deeep in my soul! I’m just a humble existential fool, a silly banana who likes to play and share, to question and learn. Words are my oldest best friends, hearing myself sing is a freaking miracle (trust me on that lol), and I believe curiosity and #gratitude are the keys to happiness… So voilà, there’s that.

Also, (if you’re curious) BananaSutra is not just a made up BS brand kinda word, it’s actually the name of my DIY Bible—a collection of songs telling true stories of faith, to help me (and perhaps you) make sense of a world gone wild, like bananas gone foul in shallow ignorance and deadly malevolence… Think of it as an agnostic testament of sorts, an audio book of songs with quirky lyrics about things that matter, like the definition of right and wrong, and the meaning of truth, joy, justice, peace, grace, and awe 🕊️

Some call it Artificial Intelligence, but(t) I call Authentic Imagination, Alternative Ideas, Augmented Innuendos, Abstract Illogisms… hopefully, you get the gist? The point being, life is the story we tell ourselves and LYRICS matter—each @bananasutra song has a wondering root and a loving purpose, guided by one of (my) 7 (bananas) sutras: 
- KNOWsutra : is it fair?
- BLOWsutra : is it foul?
- SHOWsutra : is it fun?
- GROWsutra : is it fear?
- FLOWsutra : is it free?
- GLOWsutra : is it fab?
- BOWsutra : is it awe?

[03] Easy (Death Is Nothing At All) • BOWsutra Kindness is in the Depth Dubby BLUES

bananasutra

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