Aristillus

A large crater to dump my thoughts

This must be why post-rock never makes it onto mainstream radio

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No sane DJ is going to burn their fingers on a song title like this:

“And by Our Own Hand Did Every Last Bird Lie Silent in Their Puddles, the Air Barren of Song as the Clouds Drifted Away. For Killing Their Greatest Enemy, the Locusts Noisily Thanked Us and Turned Their Jaws Toward Our Crops, Swallowing Our Greed Whole.”

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Written by aristillus

August 16, 2010 at 00:34

Posted in Uncategorized

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