WE WEAR THE SAME SHIRTS

Wacko Robyn, pissed, as is his custom, in his Escherian blouses, spewing good, if cynical, ideas with his oddball songs....here with his best accompanist who patiently waits for him to finish his patently puerile stand-up comedy act..........the darko cloud about him is the shape of humanity.....ever-shifting.....raining fateful aspersions upon the foibles of hypocrisy.