we're marching on

If you want we will rage on raw meat. If you want we will be irreproachably tender. not men but clouds in trousers. In return we want melodies to mess with, and songs to grow on. We want you to walk in the Megamaze, sleep in the Sciensphere, dance in the Something We’re out of breath. Oh, We’re out of breath . . . . . . . . Contact : leilahebden@yahoo.co.uk ///////////////////////////////// Wamo : weremarchingon@gmail.com