NYGA\B Spirit Music

Club.

Men.

Who do we know?

Who is the artist attending to we blinking and shrinking good deeders? Really, shepards of sorts. We trowl and drop. Drag our hearts across the five boroughs aloft, no, alight with just one tape in our boombox.

What tape?

Who is this dixie demon (in a positive light)?

She requires a little song and dance to be proper about it. It's Tori Amos, but because of the internet submission, well, it's sort of political, or, religious or something. Not to make too much of it. Well.

And I'm ashambles. Of course. Couldn't be any other way. Gather round, cubs. Listen.

Show me the things I've been missin
Show me the ways I forgot to be speaking
Show me the ways to get back to the garden
Show me the ways to get around the get around
Show me the ways to button up buttons
That have forgotten they're buttons
Well we can't have that
Forgetting that
-Tori

If I ever catch one of you men.

If I ever.

Hold my hand, it's warm.

Blessings,
Doctor Eight