An optical illusion for your minds eye. close your eyes and sail with me a while.
Too scared to sleep in this tower of babel i come to vomit my stream of bleeding words on the stages of dark rooms lit by fires long since gone cold. Will the sound of meaning creep out from under the dense clouds, or hearing too much and too little will we ooze away through the cracks while the cold draughts pour in?
Esoteric drones and melting guitars. Monolithic lullabies for the end of times.