PROMPT = "Use Fewer Notes" . So I kept the song centralized on one chord with only one change.


doom, doom, doom
there's no room for anything
but my gloom

soon, soon, soon
i will prune
the damning fruit

cuz all the bad seeds that ive sown
and ive strewn
have overwhelmed me with the guilt
of 30 trillion earths
but whats another rebirth
all of this on loop?
pause just to resume?
what kind of buffoon...

but even if i did
then what can i do
i dare you 
to just throw out such a root
howabout you 
try doing the same
and when you fail miserably
remember my name
and my little widsom shared

raw, rare, unprepared
one might assume
that this old soul 
woulda known
a thing, anything. or two
but i guess some shit you keep
while other things you lose 

1- Soon

what glimmers might reside within my cadaverous shell

Sorry 2 Bitch

Flavor Whore

Earth lies in the center of this homebase galaxy.
They say it's more conducive to life,
a good place to raise a family.

Somewhere near the very center,
chaotic background buzz of growth and end of life.
Things are always changing here,
actively and endlessly.

What a gift to have been placed in such a place!
But sometimes, the activity is overwhelming.
Center of the galaxy, tumultuous and churning...
makes for an unsafe continual space.
Maybe what I need is just space.

Maybe after all this time, 
surrounded by chaos, fusion, heat, and light,
I could use a vast expanse.
Maybe what I need is just space.

or some Quetiapine, like the nothingness found only in death...
nothing to be seen in the seemingly endless expanse.

Galaxy

Deluge of internal banter
Solitary reprimander
(I cant fuckin stand her)
I cant fuckin understand her
Inflicts to a degree
at which the subject has been put at risk
denying every primordial wish


Set my shit to firedrive
Acceleration upon the event in which I revive
Quarter in the slot
Abandon the outlet i will not
Though There's much more energy to be absorbed from the light of day
My organs I defile and I myself revile
I sense nausea and erupt with burning bile

I can't stand.
I can't stand it and I simply cannot stand
This spine in its fragililty simply can not stand
Without a helping hand

Perpetuating a spinning wheel until i crash
because a break it never had
My crash will be the break i never had  
I'm running lethargic careless and slow
Without a helping hand

Firedrive

is this a cold-hearted world?
this is the cold-hearted world.

Is This a Cold Hearted World?

the gateway to that other world had opened only for a minute
the chance presented itself clearly and then soon enough vanished
to think that the opportunity was really truly there
a moment to share, instead was discarded. cardiac tear.

the rip mended itself 
untrue for myself although
the space time rip mended itself

this slowly rolling time, its surface cracked and eroded
making for a turblent ride
making for a difficult stride
i will not wait until my life
has passed and i have not amassed
somehow another route to pass
something of comfort and ease

the rip mended itself 
untrue for myself although
the space time rip mended itself


Cracked

Ripple

"With their melodic hooks, vocal harmonies, and fast and loud energetic performance, the NYC born and raised band brings the crowd together by expressing its discontent with society’s disapproval of the gay, transexual, lesbian and transgender communities. Their set is full of Venus in Furs references and an Elliot Smith sense of self-doubt and .. beckons for the kind of emotional disengagement explored by Belle & Sebastian .. you can hear a kind of spacey dark sound that takes cues from 90s alt rock."

- Gauraa Shekhar, NYSmusic.com

Ids

BOYS (NYC)