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Can we jam, brothers and sisters? Dare we meet at the impalpable chat room that exists beyond our third heaven? Dare we to speak in tongues and timbres, our skin taut across hollow shells, our veins strung across cadaverous bodies? I'll grab my drumsticks if you grab the guitars, and there's somebody on the bongos slappin' the skins with zealous fervor-- where my tambourine girls at? Don't worry, I haven't forgotten our forlorn hero sitting behind the keyboards-- Tickle me those ivories with pious hands and aching fingers, shake em down sweet Jerry Lee! And so we begin-- I lay down the drum beat that bops heads and scatters feet, and the bassman always on top of things slaps and slides and skips and sizzles hot diggity dog! I hear that sweet guitar scream and moan, praying for death under hazy lights and we all coast with eyes rolled back into our skulls and torpid lips drooped open over slack jaws. Not a word is said from a human voice, we speak through hands and feet, basking in colors eking from every kick drum stomp and the desperate wail bleeding from amplifiers. Feedback sings and screams, fighting the silence we taunt and hold at bay. Around every corner the colors trail coursing through our vesselious bodies propelled along the dizzying venture. We somehow spot every pothole and take detours, embarking down backroads and backalleys-- We can turn the wheel, but don't think for a moment we know where it's going. And the mirror's have all vanished, we know not from where we came. Someone shouts from the discovery as we exit a phrase to enter serendipity, toying with destiny, clay in our hands, stretching out the ****** perennially-- We laugh as the gods try to remind us we are Man. And the screams and the moans sensing the ****** is getting close so there's a crescendo I ramp up the tempo ahhhhhhhHHHhhhHhHhHhHHHHHhhhETERNITY IS NOW AND WE HOLD THE KEY TO HEAVENS GATES AND TIME STANDS STILL AT HIGH NOON IN THE TOWN'S SQUARE WHERE TRIGGER FINGERS TREMOR AND WE SPEAK TO GOD ON HIS PRIVATE CHANNEL COMING THROUGH WORN SPEAKERS CELESTIAL CREATURES IT WOULD BE SACRILEGE IF WE WEREN'T SUDDENLY SO HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY So I say again, brothers and sisters, can we jam? SO I SAY AGAIN, BROTHERS AND SISTERS, CAN WE JAM? SO I SAY AGAIN, BROTHERS AND SISTERS, CAN WE JAM? So I say again, brothers and sisters, can we jam?
0
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC
Jam
Can we jam, brothers and sisters? Dare we meet at the impalpable chat room that exists beyond our third heaven? Dare we to speak in tongues and timbres, our skin taut across hollow shells, our veins strung across cadaverous bodies? I'll grab my drumsticks if you grab the guitars, and there's somebody on the bongos slappin' the skins with zealous fervor-- where my tambourine girls at? Don't worry, I haven't forgotten our forlorn hero sitting behind the keyboards-- Tickle me those ivories with pious hands and aching fingers, shake em down sweet Jerry Lee! And so we begin-- I lay down the drum beat that bops heads and scatters feet, and the bassman always on top of things slaps and slides and skips and sizzles hot diggity dog! I hear that sweet guitar scream and moan, praying for death under hazy lights and we all coast with eyes rolled back into our skulls and torpid lips drooped open over slack jaws. Not a word is said from a human voice, we speak through hands and feet, basking in colors eking from every kick drum stomp and the desperate wail bleeding from amplifiers. Feedback sings and screams, fighting the silence we taunt and hold at bay. Around every corner the colors trail coursing through our vesselious bodies propelled along the dizzying venture. We somehow spot every pothole and take detours, embarking down backroads and backalleys-- We can turn the wheel, but don't think for a moment we know where it's going. And the mirror's have all vanished, we know not from where we came. Someone shouts from the discovery as we exit a phrase to enter serendipity, toying with destiny, clay in our hands, stretching out the ****** perennially-- We laugh as the gods try to remind us we are Man. And the screams and the moans sensing the ****** is getting close so there's a crescendo I ramp up the tempo ahhhhhhhHHHhhhHhHhHhHHHHHhhhETERNITY IS NOW AND WE HOLD THE KEY TO HEAVENS GATES AND TIME STANDS STILL AT HIGH NOON IN THE TOWN'S SQUARE WHERE TRIGGER FINGERS TREMOR AND WE SPEAK TO GOD ON HIS PRIVATE CHANNEL COMING THROUGH WORN SPEAKERS CELESTIAL CREATURES IT WOULD BE SACRILEGE IF WE WEREN'T SUDDENLY SO HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY So I say again, brothers and sisters, can we jam? SO I SAY AGAIN, BROTHERS AND SISTERS, CAN WE JAM? SO I SAY AGAIN, BROTHERS AND SISTERS, CAN WE JAM? So I say again, brothers and sisters, can we jam?
#happiness#music#scream#joy#guitar#drums#bass#connect#jam#keyboard
jarjarrhine
Written by
jarjarrhine
24/M
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC
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