Dip and ponder; retrieve your doggish sympathy. For a band that disbanded. To pass flutters away and empty leaving, like the Google logo, a search called off but nevertheless listed with all the other ribcage links. And my heart is the listener and it beats accordingly, towards this momentary insight, of a webpage where this band exists my eyes. And my heart is the cursor and it curses my fingers accordingly, towards some momentary light, signposted by the play-sign where playing exists my ears. Breathing in through windows, outside, the smell of decay lives accordingly, directed by birds above, kestrels watching, colliding, clocked in September, the orange evening twinkles, pockets and fortnightles, the nottlenops and nostrils, gigantic daze and girding faithstops, the side of the road where I waited, back-sleeving a number of watchless checks, an absence on my wrist, existing my wrists. Yet, deep down I would listen to all those beautiful musicians approaching, up-firing, remembering, all year around; here’s one: Scattered Trees. Bless the memories and these ones they sung about.
But wait there! Reader! There’s more; surviving members of this band-disbanded merged with a new fresh page, band, named in beautiful capital letters, existing there, ON AN ON. Let me check my future-watch and somehow slot another post accordingly!