9 October 2012
Straight ram, no juice, My brain, partly confused, Lungs so loose, Looking down to my shoes, Free the laces and let loose, Start the music,
Imagine the fast flight, Past the moon, through the sand dunes, Emerging From the settling fumes,
Hear The subtle Rhythm of these fine tunes, feel the Music that is due, your ear drum now fully subdued,
Acutely captured in twos, The sad amused, By the Vibrations that cruise, electrifying, turning dead soul, to legendary tones,
Watch the dance crews, stepping away into stardom soon, seen boom box dance news,
Listen to when a heart speaks as it beats, singing in short fuse, Life we choose, from the back rooms, To the heights of cool,
"Imagination, it is just a tool"
That Music Thing • Opuss № I