Magic Bus from DU 2 by Dethrobing Umwelt

Waiting for the bus. Not the one for school. But the motorcade of lust that might bring me back to you. Magic like the bus by the famous band The Who. Waiting for your bus. Portrait of clown who’s colors have paraded this snot green town and sedated all wheels once round with his red boots now. I have un-become a vehicle collided with a meteor of gold. Unrequited, not delighted to halt a sneeze. Abhorrent catastrophe. Bleeding from the nose. My shirt could hardly hide it. The colonnade of sound. Dry cleaning defiant. To fix a stain. The geese are playing saxophone. Like a broken record. I’m a spinning metaphor. I interpret onward as somehow being here before. Swooping through the trees. The hawks were quite reliant for squirrels with shaking knees. But they were non-compliant and had to leave with nothing but feathered wings. I am on my way. You have un-decided to pitch your tent and stay. The entourage of you cascades down. Swallowed up by it’s own cacophony. Pointing to the breeze. I chronically decided while running on my knees. Through the hall I slided to up and fly. But my fingers got stuck in the hinges of a closing door. Like a broken record I’m a spinning metaphor. I interpret onward as somehow being here before.

• Acoustic
• Experimental
• Folk
• indie
• indie folk
• singer-songwriter
• New York