supernatural hard rock zombie that hijacked my humunculus and dressed him up in barbie doll outfits someone had buried as clues to a yet unsolved crime and continues to take up residence on my beer stained obdula oblongata harrasing me with creepy answering machine messages about plots fer theme albums despite being several years behind on his rent...
Sounds Like
recordings I made with a dixie cup and some pocket change rattling around in a tin can connected via fishing line to a cellphone dialed in to a voicemail account nobody ever checks...
well... as you all know.. the REAL "Hard Rock Zombie" died in a smokestack on da outskirts of LA, years ago... but after a freak accidental seance filled me with his spirit spit... i've been channelling strange songs ever since... the messages from beyond don't always come in too clearly, but that's okay, because neither do my recordings This profile was tweaked at MyspaceGeeks.com
I wrote a bunch of new songs about being broke and homeless. Only, I really am broke and homeless so I don't have anyway to record them or upload them or play them for you.
As if by magic, a mix-tape that you made long ago flew into the front seat of my car (still equipped with tape-deck) and turned out to the most awesome lil' time capsule I've uncovered in a while. Mostly songs by our peeps from way back. I might have even heard myself, playing the pants...
