Experimental, impressionistic sub-paragraph tumblin' (think obstsalat)



I keep listenin’ for footsteps
But I ain’t hearing any
From the boat I fish for bullheads
I catch a lot, sometimes too many
— Bob Dylan, Floater

Super (Mario) Cake

When I hear beautiful music it’s always from another time
Old friends I never visit, I remember what they’re like
Standing on a doorstep full of nervous butterflies
Waiting to be asked to come inside
Just come inside
— Bright Eyes, Lime Tree