pete odd

There are countless streetlights mapping out a road leading nowhere....there is a silhouette that remembers what it was like before we could sell a soul for a 15 minute obsession....there is a heart beating, there is music playing inside....but noone listens and noone is home....this is a ghost town....
Rain cascades rooftops....down through the drains to where every drop is ignored and forgotten....they say the sun still shines and the angels, they lay supine on a bed of cotton....but they do not care that every teardrop erodes another little piece of the concrete artery....this is a design....a building with foundations made of sand....
The monuments corrode leaving nothing except a fleeting memory....maybe something special that you once heard or did....something that cannot be bought....a reason why we keep reaching for fragments of hope while hoping that the rain doesnt stop....after all....we need something to remind us that we are alive....
-pete-odd-
The recordings here are 1-take live documents....completely dry and blemished....a celebration of imperfection....a cognition of discontent....
To stumble forwards is still a progression.
Feel free to leave comments, death threats and theories and thankyou for your eyes, thoughts and ears....
This page exists because I have no idea how to use computers......