tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46616213400117887132024-02-08T05:30:48.476-08:00Strange, Heavenly EncountersFriar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-83726911319836132982009-11-24T16:02:00.001-08:002009-11-24T16:02:57.273-08:00Woman<img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyNTkxMTg*MzA3NjMmcHQ9MTI1OTExODYwNTA*OSZwPTEwMjI2MSZkPSZnPTEmbz1hNGU4YjcyYzMzNjY*NTYzYmNhNTBlZjlkYWJjMjM3NSZvZj*w.gif" /><a href="http://www.supload.com/listen?s=8M9hxI">Download Brian R. Tucker - Woman</a>Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-28735178771175625202009-09-08T23:48:00.000-07:002009-09-08T23:59:43.507-07:00UpdateHm. <br /><br />Been a minute since I've written here. Let's see:<br /><br />Same house. <br />Same job. <br />No money. <br />New lady. <br />School. <br />Music. <br /><br />Does anyone read this thing?<br /><br />Also. Anxiety abounds. Behavioral changes. Must be real. Want to share. Why can't I?<br /><br />The end.Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-473839318965096182009-07-21T14:12:00.000-07:002009-07-21T14:13:44.623-07:00The HuronNew Song, "The Huron."<br /><br /><img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyNDgyMjE5MzQwNzYmcHQ9MTI*ODIyMTk*MzQ4NSZwPTEwMjI2MSZkPSZnPTEmbz1hNGU4YjcyYzMzNjY*NTYzYmNhNTBlZjlkYWJjMjM3NSZvZj*w.gif" /><a href="http://www.supload.com/listen?s=KsjijV">Download Brian R. Tucker - The Huron</a>Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-82781314293721074732009-06-15T13:07:00.000-07:002009-06-15T13:08:00.256-07:00Autumn crisped sweet dripping Indian summer<br /><br />Dusted the shirts on our backs<br /><br />Oh Colorado-<br /><br /> The rolling patches<br /><br /> Wheat, thirst bread, fills<br /><br />Like smoked remains of honey<br /><br />A plumage; watercolor rust<br /><br />Blues and dotted reds<br /><br />Making love in the sky on melting mountaintops<br /><br />Our muscles filled with acid halfway up<br /><br /> And we summitted, submitted our<br /><br />Bodies to the wild-<br /><br /> <br /><br />Forestation, ancient language<br /><br />Molds of a tribe,<br /><br />We are the nativesFriar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-53467089929701522482009-06-15T13:05:00.000-07:002009-06-15T13:06:02.005-07:00Wood. Hard stone electronic circuits<br /><br />I am the passage of your youth<br /><br />And the skin beneath your fingernails<br /><br />Grazing over bulbs and flashing screens<br /><br />Abright underbelly, character of telegraphic wire<br /><br />Constant time, use.<br /><br />We’re connected- copper soldered to empty sockets to assure<br /><br />a more perfect union<br /><br />where the brain and the fingertips<br /><br />intertwine we camp out for hours<br /><br />teardrop mechanics on sunlight<br /><br />human motherboards widespread intercontinental consciousness<br /><br />speaks for our use like a careful person<br /><br />with a pretend bandage<br /><br />still barely sticking to skin and metal and bone<br /><br />we might be further apart than we thought.Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-86284231120819659472009-05-23T23:27:00.000-07:002009-05-23T23:28:28.335-07:00Petite Sarah<img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyNDMxNTc1Njg*NjQmcHQ9MTI*MzE1NzU4MTU3OCZwPTEwMjI2MSZkPSZnPTEmdD*mbz1hNGU4YjcyYzMzNjY*NTYzYmNhNTBlZjlkYWJjMjM3NSZvZj*w.gif" /><a href="http://www.supload.com/listen?s=yBgxrS">Download brian R. Tucker - Petite Sarah</a>Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-78101424939739086812009-05-23T23:26:00.001-07:002009-05-23T23:26:56.958-07:00Few Presidents<img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyNDMxNTc*NDY1OTMmcHQ9MTI*MzE1NzQ5ODIxMSZwPTEwMjI2MSZkPSZnPTEmdD*mbz1hNGU4YjcyYzMzNjY*NTYzYmNhNTBlZjlkYWJjMjM3NSZvZj*w.gif" /><a href="http://www.supload.com/listen?s=kMiDWf">Download brian R. Tucker - Few Presidents</a>Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-32337778005173908572009-05-23T23:08:00.000-07:002009-05-23T23:11:03.411-07:00Collab w/ JonHigh quality drinking surplus cardboard, metal<br />flesh, shining exposure.<br /> Bulbs burst with jealousy as the homeless<br /> Man behind your stretched face tonight<br />rips his corduroy pants to expose an erection –<br />The facility, a useful member of society<br />dared dark rooms waiting spoiled light shrivels upon<br />exposure the leftover negatives of a post-life moment<br />in time. Existential proofs considering pre-reality, flash<br />points to live by. It was framed perfectly adjusted balances<br />and we shuddered shutters in 1/3 the time –<br /> blasting emulsion from our ink stained fingertips covering<br />each other’s throats and mechanical parts with sticky<br />ever-altered unloving cells basking in the glory of the<br />yet-to-be. Spoken moats, ever-collected remnants<br />estranged. Idyllic siren melody ringing like stray cats<br />fighting over the last scrap of skin in the back dumpster<br />while the neighbors watch porno at a cosmic volume –<br /> Let’s do this – let’s take the few snapshots remaining<br />and burn them, send them into the atmosphere to<br />the Brazilian woods where, while we can never<br />speak of it, they will wait there until the trees<br />are cut down and turned into Polaroid paper.Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-7030430890617781652009-05-07T00:10:00.001-07:002009-05-07T00:10:09.668-07:00these words are not mine these lines are nothing but lies the paper which this is printed on is soaked in blood the ink is gathered from dying children in one of those shanty towns far east of here or west and the letters which construct the words you are reading are dreams of dead men that mean absolutely nothing you want something recycled I beg you to begin here at the quarks of the written word a miniscule vocalization on the page represented by some arbitrary character an utterance a stare that could only be expressed with an elipses or projected on and off the page with strategically placed line breaks and stanzas this isn’t the only way you see when you really think about words and feeling and emotion and physical perceptions the letters break down and the words become components to the greater story it is in effect Nagasakian by the logic of several dead American men this writing is greater than the sum of its parts.Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-49671157338130042512009-05-07T00:08:00.001-07:002009-05-07T00:08:28.533-07:00Bowing out along slippery<br />green blades swinging severed<br />limbs drenched in Sento and<br />Sonnets and the blistering gamots <br />of an uncertain shaking anxiety-<br />we forgot the book again<br />we forgot to read again.<br />It’s yellow outside, but we are all red.<br />And not all read, by shear virtue<br />we spend our nights in the company <br />of cigarettes and silly forgettable chatter,<br />neglecting perhaps an orgasmic <br />chapter or two, or maybe a just<br />listening to one of the many Prophets.<br />Let’s chug along anyway<br />let’s get to work sometime.Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-14359738438127990832009-05-07T00:07:00.000-07:002009-05-07T00:08:05.542-07:00Yellow crusted over yogurt dripping from sliced wounds, or the balls we thought were in play sit blankly underrosaries of hanging jungle vines wrapped around an inferno of technological orgy sizzled fuck spread left impressions of our Lord on bedsheets left behind buried next to the bones of a dying distant planet only to be kept awake, adrift from the rain falling outside tonight across plains of leftover beer cans and condoms this is the electric sex pot encrusted sheets stuck together under your family’s old quilt and left to rot under the sink of the farmhouse’s broken mirror under it we lay all night and sang whispered prayers to one another until our muscles fueled with acid burning worth it we cried out when morning came and we remembered the night we did covered in straw and love and DNA like a mirored vortex a cat in a bag never existing but never caring.Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-57978781172053770662009-04-01T21:38:00.000-07:002009-04-01T21:52:53.474-07:00Run from yourself, run from the police.<br /> Run from yourself, run from the police.<br /> Run from yourself, run from the police.<br /> Run from yourself, run from the police.<br /> Run from yourself, run from the police.<br /> Run from yourself, run from the police.<br /> Run from yourself, run from the police.<br />-------------------------------------------------------------------<br />We lie all night in the concrete prairie.<br />Bus stop fires among winking eyes.<br />Then drive on down to the cemetery.<br />Gun shot riots ash shaking thighs.<br /><br />Our home is Mexico.<br />Our home is nowhere.<br />Where the Kentucky grass grows,<br />through your dark red hair.<br /><br />--------------------------------------------<br /><br />What am I up to nowadays? Nothing much.<br /><br />I've been writing some stuff with sound in mind as of late. I've gotten to the point where I feel like my writing needs to be read aloud or performed. The last short poem here is an a cappella jingle sung to something that resembles a traditional American folk tune. I think I'm subconsciously summoning the old bards' ballads from the days of yore. <br /><br />New place, same cat, <br />same face, red hat. <br />That is all.Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-60417538271810172672009-03-12T17:47:00.001-07:002009-03-12T17:48:09.119-07:00This is whatever you want.<br />This is whatever you want.<br />This is whatever you want.<br />This is whatever you want.<br />This is whatever you want.Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-53189579613760225162009-02-25T12:21:00.000-08:002009-02-25T13:17:39.689-08:00spinning reapers mowing brown grass. blackened grass. if it’s gotta be good, it’s gotta be good. crumblies always make the better choice when downhill darlings sigh ‘oh god’ when their spots are taken. it’s too light, he said. take it back, show me all you got he said. show me all you got he said. i’m conscoius of all worlds he said at least those that i’m conscious of he said. thank god in heaven the neighbors flushed their radiowaves properly this time. stop coughing he said. adjust the speakers to face in. face in, adjust them face rightly. rise over run he said. sprinkle out the mushroom dust over the receiver, into the receiver. not too light. if there aren’t any clean socks by morning i’ll have your head he said. it’s gotta be good, it’s gotta be good he said. i can feel the mosquitos he said sucking me off. mosqiutos sucking me off. they’re sucking me off he said. thank god in heaven he said, because it’s if it’s gotta be good, it’s gotta be good. i felt the sweat the sweat above my lips he said. i felt it hit my tongue and explode he said. oh god. the blackend grass he said the blackened grass my nieghbor fired shots they all exploded he said. exploded rightly upon my tongue. it’s gotta be good he said. there’s gotta be rage. there’s gotta be love of country he said. take a blind eye. take a blackened eye but butt horns with everyone he said. oh god. adjust. face in he said. adjust in to face rightly he said.Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-45357887958920635272009-02-07T01:03:00.001-08:002009-02-07T01:03:46.535-08:00“Fish” the prophet spoke.<br />His cracked lips curled like his fish did.<br />“Brothers” he spoke again.<br />Fish brothers. We wondered.<br />We prodded our spears toward the prophet’s fish, some<br />more successful than others in sticking one.<br /> “Star River” flowed from the prophet’s mouth<br />as we put down our spears, our nets, our hammer<br />and nails- we shuffled, scuttled out quietly<br />leaving behind the empty shore.<br /><br />-------------------------------------------<br /><br /><br />“Allow me,” the Doctor said, catching the flavor<br />dust falling from my crispy lips.<br /> Grabbing the scapel, he drew open<br />the chest, removing organs, memory and sinew-<br /> indiscriminately.<br />“You see, you need to make a clear incision,” <br />he ruffled as the dust stuck out from his wirey folicals, <br />“forget the blood-<br /> tear out the heart-<br /> fuck it until your patient can feel it<br /> beating in the empty space.”<br />I took the heart in my hands<br /> stabbing it instead<br />with the scalpel. <br /> Cold steel fucking beating flesh.<br />I felt nothing. I returned it to its cavity, sewing along the way,<br />precisely stiched.<br />I felt nothing.<br />Absolutely nothing.Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-17099568300834416392009-02-01T21:49:00.001-08:002009-02-01T21:49:48.707-08:00All my friends are<br />made crystal. Their lights<br />dance on their eyes around combs of dirt-<br />they mound more graves. This dirt, atop<br />their heads, stir melting ice cream ponds <br />dripping against the stiffed frailness<br />of crystalline coney island sparkle. Mounds<br />and mounds, uncharred by time’s bitter tounge<br />or the 25 years at the factory by their daddies<br />and their grandaddies. They’re buried<br />upside down, their souls rooting beneath <br />evenly and logically spread earth.<br />I remember the sparkle, 1,000 years<br />since its grace bled me dry and salted my veins- back when the cold<br />forced warm bodies together, and we were there, our hearts pumping<br />ether dripping sweat<br />beading on our wrists. And we’d taste eachother<br />until the call would come to join<br />the others braving arctic, tear-freezing bliss. Hours would pass<br />by without the thought of death, the terrordread <br />of everyday, everyday, life.<br />Not here. Here, we’d make believe <br />that summer would never come, that the crystallized<br />starlight on our tongues and under our boots<br />would never abandon us. <br />Not anymore. What used to be<br />in our eyes has only dimmed this winter,<br />our friends hardnened by stone icicles <br />having no interest in our old game. They buried themselves<br />away from our house, miles away from our house, heads facing Earth’s center,<br />feet reaching for blue sky<br />but, but, finding only grainy earth to squish between toes. <br />No more sparkle. No more sparkle. We’re crystal now.Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-86443000033846414202008-10-01T21:57:00.001-07:002008-10-01T21:57:54.210-07:00The Way She Really Is<a href="http://www.supload.com/listen?s=FJNRSYS68JTD">Download Brian R. Tucker - The Way She Really Is</a><br /> <img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMjI5MzQyODE*NzAmcHQ9MTIyMjkzNDMyNzAwNyZwPTEwMjI2MSZkPSZuPSZnPTEmdD*mbz*3ZWNjYTIwODc4Mzg*ZWJkYWU1ZGFiNGNlMDZiMmUwZA==.gif" />Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-73690295807653545642008-09-29T10:30:00.000-07:002008-09-29T10:31:34.286-07:00MoonshineA snippet of LFM's Moonshine.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.supload.com/listen?s=NX37YI0QVZEI">Download LFM - Moonshine</a><br /> <img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMjI3MjAzMTYwNzAmcHQ9MTIyMjcyMDMxODk5NCZwPTEwMjI2MSZkPSZuPSZnPTEmdD*mbz*3ZWNjYTIwODc4Mzg*ZWJkYWU1ZGFiNGNlMDZiMmUwZA==.gif" />Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-1799937899754677102008-09-28T17:05:00.000-07:002008-09-28T17:18:47.963-07:00Soft Voice, Cool Smile<a href="http://www.supload.com/listen?s=Q24OXY7UIN3K">Download Lfm - Soft Voice, Cool Smile</a><br /> <img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMjI2NTc3MjAyNjImcHQ9MTIyMjY1ODQxNTQ4MiZwPTEwMjI2MSZkPSZuPSZnPTEmdD*mbz*3ZWNjYTIwODc4Mzg*ZWJkYWU1ZGFiNGNlMDZiMmUwZA==.gif" />Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-4523306714326416122008-09-24T20:17:00.000-07:002008-09-24T20:19:28.813-07:00All RockMy new song, "All Rock":<br /><br /><a href="http://www.supload.com/music/Brian-R-Tucker/All-Rock/R6COX6KTEDWV-download.html">Download Brian R. Tucker - All Rock</a><br /> <img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMjIzMjMyMzAzMTAmcHQ9MTIyMjMyMzY3MzA2MSZwPTEwMjI2MSZkPSZuPSZnPTEmdD*mbz*3ZWNjYTIwODc4Mzg*ZWJkYWU1ZGFiNGNlMDZiMmUwZA==.gif" />Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-25101591219667388642008-09-20T11:43:00.001-07:002008-09-20T11:43:33.732-07:00Jenny<a href="http://www.supload.com/music/Brian-R-Tucker/Jenny/YL2KJFBVKN00-download.html">Download Brian R. Tucker - Jenny</a><br /> <img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMjE5NDcwODQyNjkmcHQ9MTIyMTk*NzA5ODczMCZwPTEwMjI2MSZkPSZuPSZnPTEmdD*mbz*3ZWNjYTIwODc4Mzg*ZWJkYWU1ZGFiNGNlMDZiMmUwZA==.gif" />Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-57213175725464924512008-09-20T11:19:00.000-07:002008-09-20T11:25:40.423-07:00What LFM has been doing with Tony Valentine...<a href="http://www.supload.com/music/Lfm/Snip-Pet/GBF8BT1RGL25-download.html">Download LFM - Snip Pet</a><br /> <img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMjE5NDYwMzA3MTEmcHQ9MTIyMTk*NjA*MTc4NSZwPTEwMjI2MSZkPSZuPSZnPTEmdD*mbz*3ZWNjYTIwODc4Mzg*ZWJkYWU1ZGFiNGNlMDZiMmUwZA==.gif" />Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-86108161546740069252008-09-17T09:14:00.000-07:002008-09-17T09:16:14.835-07:00Poems to MusicIt was silly<br />it was jade and transparent and only made<br />sense just between our bedtime Bible story and our dreams.<br />But now we can dance, and pull the weeds, and perform for<br />our aquaintances. <br /> We can fall asleep without saying our prayers.<br />Our wrinkled grandmothers watch on, silent; withholding. Biscuits in the<br />morning. The sled is broken.<br />Here’s what we did. We did. <br />We prayed our little jade, transparent pearl into the old abondend cistern next door. We blew smoke into the deep frier.<br />We can cut our own hair now, weave our own sweaters, smile and sneeze in time.<br />“Bless you” grandmother would’ve said.<br />“Bless you.”<br /><br />MUSIC: (Neutral Milk Hotel, “Aeroplane Over the Sea”)<br /><br /><br /><br />The walls are soaked<br />peeling and drenched<br />liquid dust.<br />“P. Shelley-Receptionist.”<br /><br /> Screams, bones, xylophones.<br />Take a number. Please sit.<br />Bloody smiling. Chit chat, WARNING: THE CHAIRS HAVE TEETH.<br />Sit back, watch The Human Life Show. The grammphone pops-<br />it’s out of tune nickelodeon wobbles.<br />WELCOME.<br />Dogs bark in the distance, the air is stained yellow. Automatons blink and sqeal. They do not sing.<br />NO FLASH PHOTOGRAPHY.<br />This is not post-industrial bliss.<br />MUSIC: (Mr. Bungle, “Backstrokin’, Golem II The Bionic Vapour Boy, ARS MORIENDI)Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-37364057378735370602008-09-16T22:54:00.000-07:002008-09-16T23:02:00.630-07:00Written As WrittenBathe in milk and bleach, glue your eyebrows to your tail. Shave, repeat.<br />Vacuum up the nails and wait for the taxi man-<br />outside of the motel to call your name in whisper... "Alberta..."<br />Your Wrinkled little withered hands open the wicker berry basket, to<br />find only another basket, within another basket, within another basket.<br />20 minutes later, Robin's egg waits patiently on the balcony overlooking the<br />sea, the tide of taxi cabs blinking flashers; endlessly abyssal.<br />Smooth, perfect, waiting to be asked when the sun will rise<br />again, when your extended stay will end,<br /> No vacancy, no shame, no questions remained.Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661621340011788713.post-20078894469271488082008-09-15T20:18:00.000-07:002008-09-15T20:25:57.784-07:00Not Enough Lucy, Too Much Time...<a href="http://www.supload.com/music/Brian-R-Tucker/Holding-Hands-Around-The-World/SFSF00PITCSE-download.html">Download Brian R. Tucker - Holding Hands Around The World</a><br /> <img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMjE1NDYyMDQ2OTkmcHQ9MTIyMTU*NjM1NTcwNiZwPTEwMjI2MSZkPSZuPSZnPTEmdD*mbz*3ZWNjYTIwODc4Mzg*ZWJkYWU1ZGFiNGNlMDZiMmUwZA==.gif" /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.supload.com/music/Brian-R-Tucker/Paint-The-Town-Red/7JQK2U8Q30GX-download.html">Download Brian R. Tucker - Paint the Town Red</a><br /> <img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMjE1NDY*MzI3MDUmcHQ9MTIyMTU*NjQzNzQ*NyZwPTEwMjI2MSZkPSZuPSZnPTEmdD*mbz*3ZWNjYTIwODc4Mzg*ZWJkYWU1ZGFiNGNlMDZiMmUwZA==.gif" />Friar Tuckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14960680589894576062noreply@blogger.com1