Chunky White Cervical Fluid

King Night

(Iamsound)

There crumpled hearts to each other with violent sweetness. There is saturated with soft and colorful things that glow in the dark. Inside a car. In the rain. Thinking of you that I've moved away. It is enough for me your eyes I only seem to explode inside. As a witch who has his eyes light up the night. And the smile that I open the bowels. These three know how uncomfortable mix and stir many emotions properly. Perhaps unconsciously evoke moods and melodies that make you rise above, as thick smoke caliggine glitter or fluorescent. Making you forget to remember. Beat fat and supersaturated, synthetic and manipulated voices that breathe helium bag and drop in tone, echoing in his head. Synth you chew each other, overcoming the limits of decibels, then you will have to pass further. Frequency stunning sweet and tender. Tears of radioactive drugs synthesized know evil, but to have to oblivion. I missed you so much and I've found here, dissolving into bitter molasses of these fragments bowel buttons. True as ever, clear in the opacity of fiberglass that covers the entire freezing gaze with his heat. As the amber fossil makes eternal life by making it to the look, beauty, pure and translucent. Suspended. Suspended as the lives of John, Heather and Jack, revived by elapsed between crack, marchettaggio boredom and atavistic by a sound and an unconscious mission, aided this time by someone like Dave Sardy that the noise applied to emotions has pride of his profession as a manipulator of sounds. Under his leadership the saturation that have managed to make his Barkmarket unforgettable heroes of the nineties some noise, the rhythm of the sidechain and potentiometers points maximum, Salem transform into a car and very acid unthinkable a few years ago. Something monstrous and ill that combines the frequencies of lysergic shoegaze of My Bloody Valentine in echo with the indolence of some dubstep or some dub. In here there is all the crises of recent years in transfigured escape no way out. Break from the whole infinite. Doped sweet despair. Everyone wants to try, but only few know that through with the vision and the ability to describe it. Saying I love you today is equivalent to cross the hell of Salem, with all the scars and wounds irrimarginabili appropriate. "It is sweet to shipwreck in this sea ..." said someone.