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Bio
Born a damned poet, got educated, and jumped off the Earth to taste this Life. Spent time starving and I've felt days fat; seen where it isn't and been where it's at.
And now step into the 21st Century with all I've got slung over my shoulder, waiting at the train station.
I'm a singer, I tell stories...but somebody's got to play guitar.
About
This is 33
It all started in Wahington Square Park, with a Fish on the fountain.
It began from a borrowed farm, to the South of France; across the width of America, and the length of Mexico. But it happened in Manhattan.
Fish Penny was the hottest strummer I ever met; phenominal chord changes at break-neck speed skating backwards on blades. As they will, things fell apart and I left to wander the Wilderness. And roaming the desert with a Fender beater, I arrive to this point.
Cicada rising.
That there is Betty-lou; I'm me and you're you--This is 33.



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