Music by Eric Parker
Lyrics by Josh Ramon
recorded separately in indianapolis & bloomington, in 
email collaboration.

four wrists, for the trees

inspired and conceptualized by what is said to be the only (ir)rational explanation for one of western  cultures most well-known phrases -

 ...heard spewing, between spits of chew and scarred with ink on nearly every deserving sea-twirp that can't get a grip on the cities being landlocked, and the gates to the trails, or what were interstates eventually were shut off from trade while a private table was rounded, and simultaneously surrounded by or impregnate the vacant belly of this mobster as far as his insatiable appetite hasn't already cost her someday first born more than their right arm, the eventual statue of liberty even rose out of the attempt to contain the origins of the most interesting case of evolution; a cross-species breed inexplicably and across the entire planet's known population of good instincts and very well subdued teddy bears in fishtanks, as the trees falling in love with the forest into a fire already drowned, ashes puddling without a drought, seasonally heavy showers kept histories allegiances of starving pledges, especially those living anywhere near physical or metaphysical edges are formed and reformed, often made to perform, or also commonly kept from the spotlight for fear of flight, like a bird not clipped under its wing, but if it tries anything, sorry, but as the carvings wisdom displays, 'what has once, if not a million more times, has more wants for its future and less for its historical shelf; with placement going to the highest bidder, every piece of porcelain was said to have been made into a 'shitter'. It's fun to say, try it  seven billion times beyond the most relaxed man you can picture, let alone picturing him as having to compensate for age, weight and disintegration back in the boundaries on the edge of towns, all across the american extremities and territorial pissings. What you know is what you noticed and read about while everyone else was busy backpacking europe. that brings us to our main character, and the reincarnate of a boy would should've cried WOOLVESKIN! but was the first skinned by the fifth year kin, which is wearing the forming and reforming of tissue from stem cells preserved and accidentally exposed, but in a slow enough, almost medical paced dripping dropping flood wet cement is made of the middle class as they attempt to pack their bags and bag sand to stack against their backs, as if anything sandbagged will ever be water tight, like the chastity belt of an astronauts wife after having met up with alien nations for with orbiting libidos, time for this thing here to let me go, before the story never gets told...

...into the sheep appearing in the left hand of the next alleged and having to research ait isn't  and from lips or wailing finger tips of translators to the ear lobes or the iris preparing to examine before the brain can articulate. Thanks full  even without sound, and make available the ability to instigate the understanding of this born again "Woolveskin"; if its equivalent exists in each respective country, regardless of its proximity to the most, and oldest Woolven'd remains found right in secluded quarries, or holes left from extracting limestone for such towers as the Empire State, but I can't remember the early kin had loose jackets, and even looser lips, which lead to fallable and sparsely sprouting, but furnished compartments that make up the cage tentatively and make them lurk adorable to some generations and delicious to others. 
After seeing, or often times, eating the flesh of a second cousin or runaway sister   and I'm sure even across a continent; so dam  which has materialized again in this brief description as interpreted and edited down to fit the format of your screen, and span of your attention. Both could be hit or miss, so the Woolv himself is by contract to be referred to only ever as an anonymous hobbyist documenting his probability list; inm Which we're figuring out that sometime in the early part of the 21'st century, A.D., a repeat bear trap victim, and now thoroughly injured and freezen burned from winter with tattered thin fur from lack of new truants. Which are said be closer to enemies than imaginary friends, modern social theory projects in most reputable medical journals and along with the hoarded darwinian supporters helping themselves to the cookie jar of intellectual properity. 
offer the spirit of a wolf camouflaged in sheep-skin, the offspring of which has yet to not make it evident in very early days of their spawning and spreading through herds almost exclusively for revenge, or waging wars with plans never to lose.  the steadily evolving fifth year kin of Woolves (Woolve's-Kin or Wolveskin)have been kept a closer eye on than all 4 years before it; and why is that? No, we are not seeing an increase in budget, however, the main strength and mainstay power is simply how many growing eyes are cannibal-eyes or cannibalized by the infection of their very suppression; if newborne Woolveskin are  dehumanized de-punctualized, WornWolves can still accessorize with wardrobe changes going under and over appreciated, especially during each wings renovations. The new fall bird is plucking it's own wing and admitting concern makes motivational speaking sing itself as a melody in the words of the commodity; reverse the  (or WearingWolves, pending context) in the shadows on the edges of small towns. Bare and barely breathing, naming scents with its nose from where the adjacent tree has garden it grows, just between its shadiest bundles of leaves, conscience crept up on him. and he kept wearing Wool for his skin (i.e. wool-foreskin, the first and foremost technology in protecting middle evil times from expanding its timeline to beyond poleo, and no one even knows if the Woolves-kin that showed up to the set when it was time for the cameras to roll, once and for all, finally agreeing to take the call, is in fact the saddest trap and the closest thing to contraband and sharp enough teeth they retained from the good ol' days; but it shall see them through. and I too shall pass, not now, but soon, like gasoline from the underground vestige to everyones inner kings enhanced sense of peasant, but pleasant, mobility, has en engagement with a glass slipper after grandmas house has been given the go. Little red will be writing recipes for a year long marinade; her and grandma would be a nice testament to the tenderness of generations, as well as making a statement that its just the day 'n age; such things are common place. Such things are a disgrace. 

-richie abstract, author of The History of Nothing, and father of two baby Woolvskin; both currently in training for things that will need way too much explaining.


".....the end has come, and rather than 40 days of raining, it has felt like 40 nights of draining... im not complaining, nor have I been retaining, so i hope you didn't expect me to write any of this down..... spell out my sounds, if you must, if in my words you trust, so be it. go ahead and trust me to be worthy, and trust me to combine the two for you, so you can reflect it back at me and we'll have infinite versions of the truth, just the way you always do", John Veryboard, excerpt from the bestseller Philosophy Isn't Getting Any Wetter; Thank Youth



woolveskin