Overheard somewhere in the swanky slumburgs of Andersonville,
Chicago, USA:
(Home of the Swedish American Heritage
Center & also the best falafel samwich in town.)
Brian Yippi C hits those octaves in E
(wah//wah//wah//wah//---> infinity) Special Agent D. James
Bell grimaces, strokes a chord from his guitar, inverts it up the
neck whap whap kaWHAK BOOM WHAK (tis my turn on the traps) Cool
Papa Paul serves up the classical free blues riffs on his
Throm-Bone
Sir David of Gaia trickling analog ectoplasm from an olde
Roland S'yen wails and squeaks (& then she starts to play her
violin) Jim's fingers are crabs dueling with badgers, up and down
the fretboard of his bass
- (the critics say he's positively mad!)
some new folks here today - bongos and whazzat? A dumbek? say
where's Greg & Cyndi when you need them? & so verily then
did Noam Paco Gangsta arrive to takes the mic in hand to testify
& strivin' strife to the promised land from the unconscious
underground the city's bowels
? ?! ?!1?@ ! ! ? ?! ?? (punctuation marks of floot toodlin')
make me proud of ya son stay away from a gun & you can
have your fun Cuz I'm Major Tom droppin' atom bombs -- "OW,
DELONDE YER MAKIN' ME CRYYYYY!"
Tape rolling? Youbetcha.
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