One of my favorite moves is to sing some high singing bastard’s song in bass, giving some meat to the stew, erasing all shreds of falsetto forever. Don’t know what it means, but I say it anyway. Give up your vows, save our city. I needed someone to understand my ups and downs, the cut, the blow, illumination, remorse. Lyrical heights are reached through focus.
Lord Malinov, Song of Songs