If I Had A Soul I Sold

Our Heads Are Round So Thought Can Change Direction

We're Not Our Skin Of Grime, We're Not Our Dread Bleak Dusty Imageless Locomotive, We're All Beautiful Golden Sunflowers Inside, We're Blessed By Our Own Seed & Hairy Naked Accomplishment-bodies Growing Into Mad Black Formal Sunflowers In The Sunset, Spied On By Our Eyes Under The Shadow Of The Mad Locomotive Riverbank Sunset Frisco Hilly Tincan Evening Sitdown Vision.

Scientist Alone Is True Poet.

The Weight Of The World Is Love. Under The Burden Of Solitude, Under The Burden Of Dissatisfaction.

That's What The Shaman Said. He Didn't Know What He Was Up Against. He Didn't Expect The Strength And Weight And Evil Intensity Of This Spirit, This "entity," As He Called It. The Same Way The Priest In An Exorcism Has To Take On The Spirit.