Listen along, will you? Instrumental intrigue suspense agitation, she comes and backs herself, cycles heavy carousel gears, turned to syrupy ferris wheels, then did she say paramour? "One two three, one two three," says the bass, shifts and staps and shizzles to electrostatic snip out. 

The sweaty machine’s shushed electro handclap crosses lovelorn bridge number nine.

I can see your soul inside your eyes pastoral blues with the estrogenic Jetsons rickshaw: advertisement theme for a geriatric’s one-wheeled VW Beetle.

Sweep, clean pinpoint melody dots, harmonic minor moment and a cello? Hold the force, it is a loan? Electroregurgitation fade out.

Hear here! Thumbstrummed the range of a dove --trombone!--j’see café at twilight zone, man the freedom language’s lost on me: a calculator gone off like a techno bird stribbling in the wax of the ear palm, swallowed.

Diorama waltzes, bowed and shaken, stick and stocked, counting together, tick clock and one to three, one to three.

Pinched treble teeth. Notes in notes. (Song interrupted by Michael Jackson teaching Michael Jordan to moonwalk on TV screen.) 

Another thumb-strummy bedroomarket situation in a Breathless yesteryear's primaveral clam shell.

Atmospheric keyboard chord and march, the language, I failed you Freedom class. Later? I will lay there? Layla? Low later? And it occurred in my mind . . . prince said prey in your shoe?

My melancholic ping, bum bum da da de dum dum de dummmmmm, xylophonic mallet metallic jaw buzz hum, scarf caught your ankle eyes, fill it with the default stereostrobed phase out.

Spatial coast thumb stroke, the swimm has finally kicked in, the swimm, the swimm has finally kicked in, the swimmm, the swimm, sustained reinforcement steps, cutwater, stop. 

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