Sealed tight heaven-bent points of speech which turn and bob like shipwrecked material in open water. Ah, yes. That old bit. Get it good just so long as you can get it good. Like, WANDA GROUP painting the inside of your ears. Deep bass tones/flicks of metal/jittery static/captured wind all mixed together like candy corn and peanuts on I DRINK NO EVIL (writer’s note: I personally drink evil, A LOT, but shouts to WANDA GROUP for not finger wagging; just self-describing). This is headphone music. This is dead trees and light mist. This is Connie Hawkins getting fucked over for point shaving (falsely). Prayer beads on coffee tables, unheld, ain’t got shit on this. Better duck low, tie down.
WANDA GROUP has the mood on lock.
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