(however) You+Me=We still can't do it without Him

All I know is: whenever I walked into that room, the hiphophurrah turned me in/and upsidedownandout. It was a musical frenzy which bounced skitterskatteringly inside your sconce (which is no kind of flattened candlestick, but only your skull). It zipped and zathered (which is only a word as much as alone) down your six lane (un)conciousness, which doubled as mine, but only for one musical moment that lasted as long as Today. It moves you through sweet versions of effortless reality, down whipping winding lanes of don't you forget it. I think someone wants to see to it that the intersecting lines of yours and mine don't form too many truthful beauties, as they so often do. And that's what this is, isn't it? The result of 6,000 years of eternity, echoing the sweet sweet same old same old sounds that only sound new because we hadn't yet heard them Today. Hallelujah.