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Thank you, Lee. This composition exhibits both pre- and post- apocalyptic hints, as if shadows, or nuances, if you will, toward a refrain, or an absence (a temporary absence, we could say,) of the sort of grinding technocratic virtue of yesteryear's it's not me, it's you yellow pop-sequence pop. This isn't an elegant stroll through the gravel-yard, Coke-cans in tow. This NOT your "Father's shovel," found in the shed, rusty or not, but rather a new approach to taking the proverbial wooden book out of the dishwasher, singing the Carmina Burana or making a dog sing it,, posting a vanity online in the evening about something you thought of in the morning, and immediately contributing to Free Republic. Is it pancakes? Is it bunnies? The important thing is: wherever you go, there you are. In essence, genius. Thank you for sharing. I will share your link with others at Q-Anon.