Visitors came and told the us the spirit that would take us to our destiny... We're on a mission from God, they say... And for us it was our music & rythm that led to our freedom in life. So we think?? Then it would so be undergoing a strict regymin of protien shakes and fungus amungus that we would preform sound surgery upon this system or matrix of sound we'd compiled from our early days ...The visitors warned us about fighting and war games... but we'd told them it was not of any worry we had in mind... We never played games of any kind nor war ones at that, there is not a way of winning that hand if be dealt. Amongst the ruins of our tragic ideas is the Dark City which feeds them upon us... so Manifest Eros and existence like hand in hand is what we'd make them say! Then to celebrate we'd for sure throw a toga party for all to come in bath robe and bed sheet, slain in grapevines from tail to sturry head and complete the finishing touch of our minds on a little healthy dose of fungi funkus oops, i mean that funky fungus! silly me. We'd travel to mars for sex with martians, but find monsters instead throwing a riot like it was new years day in chaos city... So we filled their feeble little conciousness with SILLY thoughts and did it live at that! To all in all and everyone who'd read this passage, I'd say this was a kind of thing that was neither GOOD nor BAD as if it were, I don't think there would be any other explanation for this otherwise nonsense, so call it PSYCHEDELIC!