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Pinched Tail - Wild Honey - Garbs Of The Street - Endorphines - War Path - Madman's Cafe - Unleashed - Lord's Prayer - Waiting for happiness. - Dance With Me Celts - Remember Me Happy - Ode To You 'Above' - Crack and Cycle Again - I Dream American, I Dream Big - A Gentle Lapping - Amidst The Moon - Anything's Better - Hector's Babe - Just Write - Top Soil Lads - Songs - Ready For Attack - Rickety Steps - The Stump of a Young Tree - Un-Suspecting Love - Living Room - What Does Distortion Create - Dreary Canals - Dont Touch Anything - These Shutters Are Getting Old - Great Escape - Mood Ring - I Future - A Form of Neurosis - Opening the Lilies - Summer Heat - Member or Guest - Someday They Will Be Grown - Short of Discovery - Cool Rails - Fear The Jungle - Show Me - Trolling the Isle - Pompous Observations - Embrace - Lonely - Sugar Cane - Sit In Scorn - Sorted Truth - His Land - Shout Out - Italian Coffee - Bricks and Mortar - Jamil Mohammad - We The Living [Sacrificial Lambs] - A Man - The Halo and the Coconut - Grasps Of Bloodshed - I Want That - What I Have To Do - A Simple Poem - Whooping Trees - Foundation - The Rise in Fall Woolly Bear Caterpillars - Crap Shoot / Wall Climb - Sagacious Moon - There Was But One Monkey - There You Stand - Stop! Spontaneous - The Final Whisper - Turning Nothing Into A Dream - Swat Team Manifesto - Ideas - Morning Glory - Everything's Different - Cut Throat Curiosity - Synopsis of Trees - Wake Up - Dungy Rooms and Dark Alleys - The Whole Goddamn Fort Went Down - Waiting - Trouble With The Looking Glass - Dissonant - Assumptions Closing In On Me - A Just Moment - High Up in the Mountain Tops -
Top Soil Lads

 ah na na
na ne na na
so slippery and raw
the sushi slid down my throat.
So beautiful the splendid mystery
melded and guided by voices
to strong to be my own.
Superior cadence and marked
significance with infliction,
affected every top soil
lad that stands beside his dad
remembering days of old.
Schooled by grads of the back
room pub.
Swelling with the luster
of fresh pearl. Lets get
up and start the revolution
the feelists are whispering they're ready.

ah na na
na ne na na
it started out as something small.
then growing through my sleeves and all.
The belly burns with handsome
harmony. Spinning and curling
it is the lips of fresh kisses.
Perhaps the sap leaks
mildly through many weeks.
Some stenches simmer,
repugnant, to the background.
This time we're
screaming and dancing on the pathway.
Disrupting all the animals.
Stomping our feet in reverence
to the remembrence
of fresh kisses and curling lips.

-TESS