Omaha experienced the chimera’s silver image in a pagan root.
A man designed himself to be gone in a second.
Fatal mistakes are lonely.
The colors of winter light a light.
She sang a song of dogs walking in the road.
Why not add some music to your sunflower?
Fell a rotted tree.
Feel the surf.
This is what I was made for: to be a grass root.
An inflated tear cannot stop the rain.
Wolves seek a land of food for their colossal heads.
As long as you’re living, the marsh and the field will be blue.
People, get ready for the original king.
Brothers may mop the abbey so they can introduce time.
A tiny goddess used a trident in a rainbow to reach Nirvana.
A united Madagascar is full of now.
The clouds are full of wine and decals.
Europe was a contemporary delight for rye whiskey.
Swing low, sweet spiritual.
It’s just a rumor that saints steal anesthesia.
Shake that thing in a cellarful of Motown.
Man’s machines want to be pretty flamingos.
A man falls into a dirty game.
Igor moved into the hot.
Stravinsky made some prints of Eric Dolphy’s church.
When it’s over, ask yourself: did you get your fun?
Your bonus is the image of British jazz.
-R. Bremner
(Derived from a playlist of Bob Brainen, WFMU)
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