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?

The butter started to glisten with fear
In the face of the icy saucer
In the silence the sound of the basket reciting angrily-
There was no place for an affair with
The strawberry jam.
So sickly sweet
The pleading knife resisted;
Don't make me do it

A smooth slice,
A pale & hard interior.
The shaking jug cried.
And the jam fell to the floor.

Gone are the glory days of jam butties
when marmalade was shredded gold
and spam pretended to be ham
and plum jam tested for a cold.

The wireless was our window on the world.
The Weekly News and Guardian
gave local news, views and reviews.
Street chatter made stories that much fatter.

That world now reappears to me.
But in it I take no part.
No good, no bad, no clumsy me,
no touch, no sound, no sacred heart-to-heart.

Exploring musical concepts
in the key of C aeolian, with some G mixolydian;
even some G Phrygian sometimes- dominant.
Naturally, there's also some blues scale licks.

Mostly in 4, but some parts are in 7;
others are in 5, while yet more are in 6
(which is arguably just 3, but I venture to argue all rhythms can be more easily conceptualized as combinations of 2s and 3s. Then, one may argue that it's all just 1s, but now it's just getting nit-picky.. think of it however works for you.)
There's even a groove in 27/16!
Who would do such a thing?

Then, it's also a bit of an experiment
when it comes to harmonic rhythm
(the rate at which key/chord/etc. changes happen)

All that **** east Indian music influence!

While I realize how little of that may make sense
unless One is to approach music fairly philosophically,
I implore thee to copy-paste the link below
to hear whatever it is I'm talking about.

Be warned, though: it's measures nearly 15 minutes long.

What can I say?
I tend to get a bit carried away...

Oo, have I got a song for you. While you whittle away time learning to play instruments I've run the gun and figured how to inject my spirit in it. Has it been for you as easy to forget as it has been for me to leave the love where it belongs and move on with healthy hope, pelvis at the rope, grinding life into a pulp with each push and pull. The cold in memory for you serves as my instigation to remember you for warmth.

Life is just kitchen like it was before
Conversation runneth over,
Our glasses overfull with celebration
Why don't you come to my door?

Velvet soft skin
Playing fingernails
Dragging down your skin
You impeach me from my slumber
So i rise....

Steady i flow
onward to your rhythm
and we join as one

Hold me tight
Hold me please
A tear escapes its chamber
Iv longed for this
Iv begged for this
Save me from myself

And it’s groovy ****
The way my words maneuver it
A user but I won’t be used
By all the drugs I’m doing
Shiiitt
They talk abusive ****
Like they’re the one’s that using it
And usually I’d be busy on my timone and pumba bizz
Ness is what it’s all about
They’ll tell you anything to reassure the cash come out
To their hands
You gotta fight em with your bare hands
n realize a workaround to their plan
And on another note
I be kickin flows with a dopeness
Thinkin I’m the one
Yeah
I been thinking I’ve been chosen
Cold, I flow frozen
Shows, the vibe golden
Ghost the most smoke, I got casper choking
Actors be pulling mad guap and holding chart topping spots
Well they had a soul, sold it.
We don’t like change
Boy they’ve got us all brainless
You prolly changed this for a song about some ****
This ain’t it,
Re-spray it
Re-paint it
Rekindle
The vibe is alive, revive your minds sizzle
It is you, you are a god you are a ******* goddess
How the hell on earth could they stop us.
They cannot, we got this,
Positive is progress
We taking it *******
Don’t know where the top is
We Jam.
Like, this is your brian,
This is your brain on drugs
Well this my brain when I let it just

JAM

Humanisation
Might as well jam a mans face
On an Ocelot

Personify it
Happy like Humanity
Ocelot the bloke