WHAT Machines Do shine.  
  Without history we are all lost. Without direction we are all hopeless scoundrels looking for the meaning of life. The meaning is explained in bits which lie all around us. I found mine in an 8-Track tape, all rusted and stuck. Busted it open with a screwdriver one day to see what made it tick.  

Accordion Style

There were things to remember

Made of this

Noticed, Unseen

Merely a hold out

Thinking will destroy you


My shure place in the world

It Reverberates

Real Deal

What Ticks My 8-Track Heart?

Switch Flicked


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