The debris on my phone lens cast fingers of light from the full moon and high pressure sodiums of the city.
Sistine Chapel, anyone?
Invocation
Spark! firework heels of my dancing muse
Hands orange grasshoppers
shivering wings through chaos
synchronize with calamity’s salsa
edging past discordant notes and scaling quipping arpeggios
The grave night fumes about you
like volatile gas liberated in heat
that swirls in mythic rhythm
smoke signals unfurling tribal lore
of the stoic Cherokee
or wild Apache
Ignite! Let us scuff these ice pages
eyes lucid with inspiration
burn soot to nourish our Earth
ephermeral hearts pump timeless flame!
This exact same type of Charmander never leaves my Volvo… To add to the uncanny, this dude looks like my New Yorkian doppelganger.rest well young traveler
This judgement drips ad populum — a band’s commercial success does not necessarily reflect their musical abilities. Yes, their popularity plummeted due to Ryan fans boycotting the band, but they picked through the ashes of their loss and salvaged the quirky themes and instrument choices while simplifying the non-sequitur lyrics of Pretty Odd to contiguous poems in song form, a major improvement in clarity and therefore quality. They branched beyond the derivative lyrics of Fever, maintaining the descriptive diction and renewing their storytelling nature (in “Memories,” for example). In short, all bands have flaws. Panic just has a tendency to delete said flaws.I don’t know why you’re all so obsessed with what is basically an overrated screamo-pop band. They had one good song, and one commercially successful album. They only succeeded because Pete Wentz put all of Fueled By Ramen’s money behind them, and set them up on international…
