So God plugged the universe in. “Let there,” he began, “be sound.”
And he turned us on.
The splitting of a hair almost always renders it useless
Do the asymmetrical boogie
I’m not working for the man ever again
He makes me sick
Then blames me for breathing the air he polluted!
And as he counts his money that he’ll never spend
I ain’t working for the man ever again
The gravity of our shared destiny is what keeps us in orbit about each other
Mary had a little mammalian cell bioreactor
The children of the thousand eyes
Came back from subject island
They had asbestos hair
And nothing made them frightened
The chief of chalice is currently visually ill
A tone of my own
Soundbergs 