Her Name Was Jane

Crisp salty popcorn and biking into an effervescent sun star. Michael creates another eclectic collection of songs influenced by wombats, and other extraneous illuminations from the daily orbits of Jupiter and Venus. Let’s not forgot where we came from or are going. And where might that be? As of this very moment it appears to be uncertain in a cosmic sense. Is this all merely a vast technicolor dream encompassing our consciousness?