Saturdaynight. Hedwig amazing. Driving home. AM radio. Satellite falling with toxic loads. Rapists prowling for fresh young women leaving them dead exposed to the sky and frozen fields lonely in the night. Oscar has taken over Hollywood. Deadly shootings a few miles from my home.
Full on existential nausea overtakes me. Home shower. Song arrives.
No one is listening. So I will say what I feel. No consequence and no remorse. Monday. Preproduction. Album number six. Song becomes real. No hokey hallmark. Real magic spontaneous all of us feel it. Drive home. AM radio. Satellite safely shot down.
Irony.
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