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the draft
Look no further than a biography and you will find the beginning of a
series of distractions. We will travel so far as to forget where we are.
We imagine that we are where we are not. Our dark city is a kingdom of
music. We advertise doubt as disciples of insecurity. We are for sale.
We are art thugs with electric weapons, squirming in a gang of noise. We
will pretend that we are magic until we become magic. Even a lie can
come true when you deliver a believer. Our performance is a reflection
of the social meltdown and technological advancement growing in the
midst of obsession with convenience and entertainment. We are the music
zoo and a spectacle of industry. Our hypocritical nature struggles for
senselessness. Your reaction is dictated by your previous behavior and
environment. Your accumulated knowledge and pattern of thought will
react in a familiar manner to these words. You will try to make some
prediction of what we will sound like based on your memories of previous
musical events and of these descriptions. We exercise our influences and
plagiarize our experiences because without this formality we may never
meet. This a confession of guilt and a declaration of participation.
There is a fortune in things you can’t touch and undiscovered reasons to
feel no better. These words are proof of our existence. Let them be a
reference of mutual sentiments. Jason Ferris-Guitar
Frank Freeman-Vocals
Scott McConnell-drums
Zach Domer-Bass
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