Walkin' Wit Crow Feather

Walkin’ Wit Crow Feather

I work it out along ago.  There’s a sheen someplace, pullin’ juices; storen ’em, like batteries storen’ acid, some day that sheen’ll come, an’ we all be fry. What’s the use, Voodoo Chil’ren, runnin ’round like a hepless chicken, ever’ body feedin’ in off ever’body, and maybe there ain’t no tomorrow. I meet plenty sez such. ‘Humans is long gone, them machines is on em way, … Continue reading Walkin’ Wit Crow Feather