Hold The Mic, Babe
The mic is right there. Ready for all of us to speak up our beautiful, unique hearts.
Profane Obscenities
One hand on a hollow oath. One hand raising a golden ghost. We crown kings with plastic thrones and call it a ceremony.
Cruelty’s The Point (Admit It)
This is one is dedicated to The Department of Homeland Cruelty...
Syndrome Nom Nom
Public health alert: chronic exposure to idiocracy may cause history-coughing, crypto-crowing, and acute democracy wanking.
Predators (FOTUS Edition)
Contempt replaced consent, preying replaced praying, and authoritarian-apologists sheeples howl along...
Do You Ever Wonder?
Do you ever wonder what you'd find if you stopped performing?
They Call Her Wild (But She's Just Free)
They call her wild. But(t) she's just free. Hella different stories.
T-R-U-T-H
T.R.U.T.H: tell it, receive it, understand it, trust it, hold it.
Freak Show King
The clown's in the ring. Truth's not for sale. The absurdity has reached the highest office. Step right up.
Possum Scrotum
Democracy ain’t a matter of chance. You’ve got to fight for the right to dance. But(t) too many play dead possum, still, As if silence could break a tyrant’s will...
Truth I Never Knew (Crushing on Bertrand)
A love letter to Bertrand Russell. Totally appropriate. Deeply heartfelt. Entirely overdue.
Criminals (Bertrand Edition)
"Life is nothing but a competition to be the criminal rather than the victim."—Bertrand Russel
I Ain't No Christian
I looked for peace and logic. I found Bertrand Russell. Close enough.
Making Songs Like...
Some people meditate. Some pray. I make songs. Same thing, different noise.
So Woken
Hopes sunken, oh, sweet heavens... Blessed be Björk, not fading, deep breathing...
Can You Play Win-Win Games Or No?
Can you play win-win, or do you just blow-blow? Hot tip: Kindness is free, and the only entry fee to the glorious win-win States of United Trust.
But(t) Where Do Pigeons Go To Die?
BOWcity's best-kept secret, one question (and pigeon) at a time... PS: I mean, do you know?
I Wanna Know
Some songs burn like hope born out of questions in oblivion...
Blessed Be Your Voice
Your voice is yours, all yours. Use it well.
It's Enshittification, Darling
Enshittification: say it sweet, say it neat. When platforms rot from the inside, someone should at least make it rhyme.
Drop Di Baggage
Drop the weight. Lightly, lightly, my darling... A psychedelic ambient reggae-dub mantra for when the soul grips too tight.
Serial Blowers
Power. Gender. Color. Favors. Why are we still asking the same questions?
Seven Sutras Gone Banana
All seven sutras, one ripe song. Dripping truth, sipping groove. BananaSutra: nothing to prove, obviously.
Please Pardon My French
I've grown to love the expression "Pardon my French". I speak it fluently, hehe...