Twelve Months in Fifty Minutes

Start the CD on a high note; something reverent about girls late for class, then move on to the heavier songs about catharsis and coming clean out of love with your lovers. Document the malaise and the haze of two winter months in a chemical daze and the sublime machinery that lifted you out of it. Make a point of coming back to the beginning and recognizing where you've been before sprouting off into the second stem, whose petals have proven more ornate than their glass tipped sisters which serve no purpose but to whisper about the ominous changes in the weather patterns. In closing make a salute to sails and the hands hoisting them higher than anything, wish them good luck and let them know that it comes apart.
Let them know anything could come apart and that the fact that it doesn't is the greatest testament there's ever been.

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