far*out

Marching through the marshes of garbage in garages, filled with car parts and carpets, and hollow computer cartridges. longneck bottles on armrests, laundry starches and cotton. lawnmowers with cobwebs and rotten milk cartons. broken old baby toys, lost and unwanted. cigarette boxes, long gone and forgotten, as we sit hostage in offices staring off into darkness...

But theres something now sparkling like rocket jets sparking, a back and forth motion like rocking chairs rocking. or some sort of magic causing goosebumps and static, to echo from the bedrooms through the hallways and attic. through six strings we could feel our fingers tingling, connected through cables in the crisp air now lingering, while cymbals and bells ring in unison through speakers while singing, pretty little melodies like psychic telepathy. mimicking movements through memory. a singular form of emotional therapy. for the people to appreciate and connect with in symmetry through symbols and meaning like poetic metaphors and similies.

While our sources of inspiration come from unknown locations, sometimes echoed fragments from our record collection, or teleported jukeboxes playing from our daydream radio stations. sending us signals from outerspace ship bases that come swimming into our skin  overflowing like oceans. But we can't stop it from coming as its crashing and rumbling, sometimes sweetly and humming, until they errupt from explosion, as we dance with our demons until we dismantle their beings. then gather the pieces, channel and release them through drive and devotion. leaving us open to explore these moments and hopefully be bold enough to see it and hold it, and capture all of these emotions into these little songs of ours. The people we've written about have since come and gone. some we've loved dearly, while others come back to haunt. But through all thats been said and done, we're one in the same. individually divided, but internally united, we secretly need each other to help numb the pain, through the sunshine and the rain, the three of us remain, humble and calm. gentlemanly innocent, goodwilled and strong