Driving Home

Bucketheadlandold

In the valley of a pathless night, who will remain? Dressed in sweet honey, fiery hearth of new life, drunk on what is left to behold. I dreamt of a god, cloaked in song, eternal markets hum, the smile of a mind salient, lifted in perceptual tone. The mythic current of sonic textures re-establishes its connection. Death is only with what cannot follow, without its ragged edge we would wither, the unknown is the imaginative force. The mortal soil is the generative phenomenon of evolutions curse, to bury its dead, is to bathe in rebirth, in baptisms of solitude. Within the emotive breath of this song a memory conjures that is not my own.  

-Josh Fleming

Inspired by: Buckethead, Whispers Way and Coupon and words remixed and recycled from The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart.

Image by: Unknown

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