"It's all been done" is a common phrase we here in the arts, in the music industry. Ever hear the sound of donuts crying when they are being baked? I have. Not only have I heard them cry, but I've recorded and incorporated it into my music. The sound of their tears falling down on the baking sheet echo throughout all of my music. You call yourself experimental? Hold my beer.


I heed not that my earthly lot
Hath--little of Earth in it,
That years of love have been forgot
In the hatred of a minute:
I mourn not that the desolate
Are happier, sweet, than I,
But that you sorrow for my fate
Who am a passer-by.