Zunk: This is awesome, I'd love to hear more like it... - great percussion jam-along, too.

Rufus Dumont: translation: Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad nets towards your oceanic eyes. There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames, its arms turning like a drowning man's. I send out red signals across your absent eyes that move like the sea near a lighthouse. You keep only darkness, my distant female, from your regard sometimes the coast of dread emerges. Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad nets to that sea that beats on your marine eyes. The birds of night peck at the first stars that flash like my soul when I love you. The night gallops on its shadowy mare shedding blue tassels over the land.

Buddha: Wonderful!

Saul: Yes! So evocative.