"There must be some kind of way out of here,"
Said the joker to the thief,
"There's too much confusion,
I can't get no relief.
Businessman they drink my wine,
Plowman dig my earth
None of them along the line,
know what any of this is worth, hey."
"No reason to get excited,"
The thief, he kindly spoke
"There are many here among us
Who feel that life is but a joke,
But you and I, we've been through that
And this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late"
All along the watchtower
Princes kept the view
The women, they came and went,
Barefoot servants, too,
Outside in the cold distance
A wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl
Abstract, glyphic designs rise and are devoured by one another to analog synth tones that sound like skipping stones across a modular lake. Bandcamp New & Notable May 25, 2016