Two stuff

These withered hands
have dug for a dream
sifted through sand
and
left over nightmares

ooover the hill
a desolate wind
turns shit to gold and blows my soul crazy

the end
oh the end
we live again

oh I grew weary of the end

That day I found Beck again. Somewhere along the line I'd lost him. Been to the Museums of the mars volta, the Westmeads of ween and the Petershams of crash test dummies. Back the soul mass transit system's just pulled in to Platform 1 at Becksville, and it's good to be back.

Dude can write lyrics.

But the real reason I wrote is to inform you of what is undeniably a return to form of ...The [zoom out clouds] Siiiimpsons...

They got a movie trailer. You MUST WATCH IT NOW