The Voice

Sounds like loosened ties, suspenders, and white shirts.

Like cognac.

Velvet.

Cuban Cigars.

Cymbals.

Gyrations.

Deep sexual urges.

Creates an air, an environment of sensual heat.

A Vulcan landscape of lava oceans.

A pulsing throb from deep inside your abdomen, defining depths previously ignored.

Blends.

Entwines with each individual instrument.

Polygamist marriages.

Voice and violin.

And Snare.

And Bass.

Extra marital affairs with the entire Horn section.

One night stand with the electric guitar.

We embrace the promiscuity.

Endorse it.

Laud and deify it.

Gives it’s listener’s permission to release inhibitions.

Indulge their most craven fantasies.