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rose marie, you were conceived by billionaires who spat on your gold-plated silverware and due to the lack of a rationale, you were left near bereft in the birth canal, but it was your time to shine, your time to actuate, but you were falling behind when they could stand up straight, and it just didn’t seem right, but you could never tell if the numbers add up, or how that word is spelled. before you started your count, the standards were too high. you tried your hardest, but they won’t ever be satisfied. it all stirred up in your head and it made you erratic. your father didn’t hesitate to rearrange the schematics. immediate incision, you were expected to bleed. your words dissolved to the sound of erupting greed. unable to conceive this was over the fence, you’ve lost everything and you must start again. you’ll be locked away until you don’t know when. and while you sat there empty, staring, holding your breath, they had their way with women. they had their dance with death. eighty-six years you suffered. their curse made life concise. you could’ve left this sooner had they been more precise. hello hollow, null and gone; eternally withdrawn.
Eternally a favorite album. A band that knocks it out of the park every time. Wild songwriting that comes across as a combination of In Rainbows-era Radiohead and Freak Out! era Zappa. Flowerpot Records