In my dreams pebbles are miracles
children know that they are gods.
ocean waves crash into chord changes
dawn slips over the horizon and
in my dreams
helicopters spin on cardboard dancefloor launchpads
head spinners turn into back spins and posed out finalies of posted up, popped up, locked out combinations of.. you just cant fuck with this bboy.
my dreams contain the secrets rhythms of the past and the shit you have yet to have heard.
talkin about sound as a color you can taste and the wind being wishes.