Why is it so difficult to demolish the ancient temples dedicated to our dark fouls? Anchored deep in previous cruelty and malice? What festering remnants of past lives do we leave behind as we try to hide, vanishing into calm, dark nights? The Sotto Voce resists, no man nor machine can pull down its walls, tempered by the satisfaction of mocking the Overland Dust Company Landlords and the absent Baron of Music, the Maestro Domenico Fontana.
A Clever Than Production.