25 26 A pure signal. Peak SP discloses its function as liminal hymn to reconcile the sick war child god with the surface_,

Unleash the Armageddon
So all the children go to heaven
I sit by quiet still
With their pictures on my eyes
You’ll draw the guns you’re given
Write down the words as written
And never disturb the presence
Of resurrection crutch

And it’s about time
It’s about drawing near
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears

Descend the darkened stairways
Make hate with plastic playmates
And fire out remaining traces
Of your self-esteem
Mainline the deepest secrets
Lick clean the dirty fingers
I am a stranger to you
As you are to yourself

And it’s about time
It’s about fear
Blue skies bring tears
Don’t you want me
As I awake the city sigh
We’ll watch the seasons die
Blue skies bring tears

Take me inside your body
Cover me with your soul
To the darkest recess
Is where I wish to go
You are the sweetest flower
That I have ever devoured
I ask for nothing given
For nothing in return

Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears

#currentlylisteningto Equally great modern depiction of ‘the mystery’, or the realm of the pure and profane. “You’ll be a lover in my bed, and a god to my head. We must never be apart.” What must I never be apart from? Verily my genius itself. Fidelio!!! As such, one of my spiritual goals is to always be reborn a heterosexual male. Peak SP IMHO

#currentlylistening Love this song. Ahead of its time. 🔥

What you gonna do when you get out of jail?
I’m gonna have some fun
What do you consider fun?
Fun, natural fun

I’m in heaven
With my boyfriend, my laughing boyfriend
There’s no beginning and there is no end
Time isn’t present in that dimension

He’ll take my arm
When we’re walking, rolling and rocking
It is one time I’m glad I’m not a man
Feels like I’m dreaming, but I’m not sleeping

I’m in heaven
With the maven of funk mutation
Clinton’s musicians such as Bootsy Collins
Raise expectations to a new intention

No one can sing
Quite like Smokey, Smokey Robinson
Wailin’ and skankin’ to Bob Marley
Reggae’s expanding with Sly and Robbie

Oops! Your mama said uh
Oops! Your mama said uh
Oops! Your mama said uh
Oops! Your mama

All the weekend
Boyfriend was missing
I surely miss him
The way he’d hold me in his warm arms
We went insane when we took cocaine

Bohannon, Bohannon, Bohannon, Bohannon
Bohannon, Bohannon, Bohannon, Bohannon

Stepping in a rhythm to a Kurtis Blow
Who needs to think when your feet just go
With a hippie-the-hip and a hippie-the-hop
Who needs to think when your feet just go
Bohannon, Bohannon, Bohannon, Bohannon
Who needs to think when your feet just go
Bohannon, Bohannon, Bohannon, Bohannon

James Brown, James Brown
James Brown, James Brown

If you see him
Please remind him, unhappy boyfriend
Well, he’s the genius of love
He’s got a greater depth of feeling
Well, he’s the genius of love
He’s so deep