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About Old Folks

Kernersville, NC

Ben Dehart and Jamie Dougherty
We've been writing music together for a year and a half. We like chocolate milk, nature, art, live music, cool dudes and bands, Moe's Southwest Grill, Radiohead, Zach and Stu, friends, and each other

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Everything behind the glass. Golden Red Brown Caramel something. No but there is a rainbow in every strand. A strand in every rainbow. We beseech thee, hear us. We beseech thee, hear us. Conversatiunion. Of course, I was helped out by the Oneness with the Freaks, but I would have felt it without the music, I'm sure. Treasure written on the wall. Love written on the underbelly of a rusting staircase. Ulana says they look like a fingerprint. I'd say animal hides and cotton. A glance over the edge of the winding road gives a frame from a dream. Three cattle in a dried up creek bed, turning heads. Giving off confused air in their lost state. A mountain forest's dead creek bank is no place for cattle. They were lost, but at least they were free. Staying up as late as we used to. As we did there. Not time wasted. Sunny dead trees and thoughtful terrain. Thought-inspiring at least. An eyelash from such a closeness is incredible. And of course when joined by dozens like it, a synergistic reaction occurs. I could have stood there for an hour, if only the light wouldn't fade. But I didn't even try for a minute. Out of rhythm out of sync skips a beat rushes another skips one more whole rest half rest back to quarters. The heart knows what she needs and when and how. With cotton candy clouds blue and pink the children in the air holding hands and smiling boy girl boy girl slowly fade over the sky as we watch them stand still gazing at us with eyes as soft as they are and we slowly drift by the shore they stand on. Our busied ship slowly moving across patient waters. Every light hinting at the lives each completely separate and private but connected by leaving a light on for a stranger to see. It hangs for a moment, and slowly fades with the air. The machine is idle as it starts its rush through the burning effervescence. 45 new suns on the building want nothing more than your eyes. Over my knuckle the brightest red seeps out to greet me. Thank you Father Son and Mother Earth for most this beautiful lemon. He stares back at me with his coffee colored eye. Light sugar, no cream. I was positively in love with her for 15 minutes. An electric heart beating blue and white in my arms. Electric lungs breathing blue and white in my arms. A lying girl not left but given her sleeping space on the grassy hill that stands into the sky over canyons and rivers. Shadows and dark crevices replaced with brilliant white snow, the grandeur was overwhelming. Did you know he ceiling is moving in waves? spinning seeping crawling and growing? Where else could you find jellyfish that seep out of themsevles onto the wet sand

www.myspace.com/oldfolksband for more info

More About The Artist

Portrait of Old Folks
 
 
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