Oh Hope

i tell you what .. _while Murrays screaming falling trees...there's Elliot Lyngreen; only when hope is lost; hope is found...damn; ..No. no. no.. Only when hope is found; hope is lost. good Lord help write this about _ _ _ _ ... Ohh Yea Murray. Murray Webster littered it. Upon aphasia, filtering tangled glimpses contained metallic in these subcity holes. like L.E.D.s….mmm sniper peering, muted, wildlife…Elliot red dots then dashes, sights and with a _ _ _! Yea just like that pearl jams in a stocking cap grooved or carved stun snag scat in Blink hooded sweatshirt. Yikes! Yet without... filling in the blanks, formatting the intangible ninjas, stunk snuck sunk inside Web's ride; a _hope it brings closer to my own admiring of this great story; you; and you-turn down into their Murraculous touch. yea u catch the glow? Production? Fear the invisible being.., but ignore so ignore the chaos, the pressure, the doubles dismal red-eye everywhere that lingered inside the ride. a great big panic that; yea. like that. Obliterates that with a blast hypnotic wayyy past afterlife-like tech tonic future. A hope that we will reach.. And was..,,Murray Webster’s. So. cool. So getting a look....[He's on our side]… of _...into--- real similar watching like old undiscovered films, B-sides of hidden tracks, searching search search and intercepting tides of receptions confuses further but with #AlgebraOne ......which mmm makes you realize your space. And time. And how you are odd tapes. blanking vanilla cassettes. you are filmy school notebooks you vociferously goon with lyrics. already you're the image. you are shredded awesome before they advent. so ho unravel in miscellaneous scraps amongst Murray's trashed floor of his ride wh-with memorize your eyes mixed more over myyeears the impeccable shuffle and gripped wheel all in an amazing rut steering at the moon, always angles at the moon….I swear….and unveil the thing straight (always right) fucking escaped into the dogged sense of being misunderstood..as.Elliots clicking it all into some sense, inserting the album #earnyourhalo so, so Murray, a Taurus of reasoning SO shadows electricity touching the blue creativity the moon beams down like 12,oooVolts remarkably as the blessed introduction of _turntheRadiOooodown once again surges in and splices it in the timeline. Simultaneous fiber ferrules link switches converted flashbacks and reincarnates a language but déjà Vu via an Amen that overfilled the bs ..cuz winter! is killing me -this year! with 'Thank You Lord'. Call me Tokyo. I'm coming Home!!! Call me. the bells are sinking now. Shuffle to Bury Yourself here. We must listen. You must .....Green light. go go go! Please angel rise from your grave, stealing the #halobrokeninto and whistles when I walk past your cemetery gates. connect the dots. connect and attach if/then and here's hopes -hear hopes -HERE is hope’s entrance:

as down roars Murray Webster sincerely, "wHAt IF I told YOU?....WHAt if I told you.. (lowering the ineffable sounds) .. what b real as rock n roll.?? rocks. n. rolls. that's righ. ...?" (but) that metro Murray or Mecurio Webster said, slid littered clutches shifting sky clumps with the dark apple glowing from the passenger seat -thank you death cab for cutie- there TO THE MOON {at once} and fingered Elliot's resolutions. Yes! typing up Murray's rambles and the stories and the feelings before the dashboard scrambled it all onto a laptop and luminous continual recording of this digital philosophy and everything we are doing now: "click. Bam! we on the fuckin moon. that's how it be right now my dude." And Elliot explains it, here. speaks robotic. poetic thru incomplete commands computed, "B. here. then hit play. and there u r. u go within without."-"the ghost in the machine..." –“Ahhh/_clicks teleporting to like... oh....alright-- phew. Gone Right!?"--"YUp!"--"well Tee-urn that shit back on and up.” And the rest is history.