Alex Wisniewski

Alex Wisniewski

Hey Alex, remember me?

I used to be a fan 

Of your band,

The Cloth Sea.

Cloth sea, cloth sea, 

What does that mean?

I don't know,

But it invokes 

The feeling 

Of swimming through sheets;

Not sand between the toes,

But satin on the feet;

A coral reef

Of pillows with tassels and beads.

But I imagine it's a reference from some British TV;

Your style reminds me of blokes inside of the screen,

And had I not known, I'd think you're from the 70's.

No matter what you rock now, I picture you in paisleys. 

I bet you're pleased

To have a home in Missouriiii;

The towns are quaint and your pipes won't freeze.

You have a wife that I have yet to meet;

But I bet you get along, because she looks fun and sweet.

Someone to keep;

And I hope you keep your band,

Because 70's British rock groups are in demand.

But I'm in Thailand,

And strangely, that's the style,

If you look real close after being here for a while.

So if you run out of places for ya'll to tour,

Get sick of the Union 

(except I'm not sure

That's possible), 

You should come here for a festival.

There's a special one in February that will be so unconventional:

With plentiful, edible chemicals,

And unforgettable, nonsensical spectacles.

Bring your spectacles. 

But if it's inaccessible for your schedule,

Take care until we meet again. 

Keep making music, forever jammin.