Our Jimi, who art some heaven, dig what thou hast laid. Stevie kingdom come, John will be done on earth in pursuit of heaven. Robert give us this day our daily blues. Janis forgive us our indiscretions as we pity the fool that just don’t know. Muddy doth not lead us to temptation – we are stone cold delivered into freedom, 12 bars at a time.

feel. hear. rave.

Virgen got no way t’know what it mean, not like Lovers do. I mean, you can listen all night long, and it’s clear in the rollin’ mojo of a big back beat. But even if Virgen let her hips sway to the rhythm, even if she grok the irresistible appeal of love and takes to heart the tragedy of unrequited love, the apocalypse of infidelity, Virgen hath not the visceral experience of sweaty afternoons and extended dances in the moonlight, the exclusive, private domain of Lovers.

for Dub Hankins by AdonisYoda 062511

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