| banging | ||
| dosquatch |
In the evening darkness The sound that overcomes The singing of the crickets Is the banging of the drums All through the night Until the morning sun The thunder never ceases This drumming that's begun All through the morning It builds its frenzied beat All through the afternoon's Scorching summer heat On into the coming night And all the nights thereafter The thunder roars, drowning life Drowning love drowning laughter Until the end when none are left To serve beneath the sun Save the never-ending thunder Of those who beat the drum ~"~ |
070701 |
| ... | ||
| unhinged |
distracted no quiet_realizations here |
070702 |
| ... | ||
| swears the misfortune | I loved banging on trash cans when I was an icle. | 070703 |
| ... | ||
| fuffle |
hello, well yes that was fun, we could have played together but i was probably more icle then you. These days i play the cat biscuits and the vitamin pills, you can get quite a good sound out of them. |
070704 |