we're selfish creatures
in a superhuman world
where we kill what we need
in order to succeed
we live by standards
that god cannot touch
where we fail to find
the secrets of our mind
there's so much we don't understand
so much we can't comprehend
but we will pretend
that life isn't a dead end
and we'll do whatever it takes
to get ahead of the game and realize
is a world behind
and we're just so inclined
to staying utterly blind
Your interest is piqued
By we the people,
The prosperous poor.
Pacified by things
As simple as passion,
Our way to the peak.
By our paedarchy
Where the puerile rule
For they are the prudent.
We are the prosperous poor,
The pauperized children,
Packing our hearts
With dreams of progress
And thoughts of prodigies.
Poor by birth,
Prosperous by personality,
We are the prosperous poor.
We, the children of poverty
Who have been pure only in heart
To prove that the poor
Are prosperous at heart.
The prosperous poor
Are only prosperous
Because they have felt the pain
Of the poor.
The wise head becomes a fool sans money,
While the goon with quids around to throw
Assumes a sage--the mayor of phony county.
Why should the prince of letters anyhow
Be in want--lacking in substance great,
Flourishing instead in some wretched state?
Yet the politicians who run down the economy
And men of baser thoughts that make heaven's
Hallowed eyes drop tears by their steamy
Smut businesses and those of unholy deals,
Do seem to prosper much in this awkward
World,with those that vaunt at the
Unprovided -- the pleasure of pleasing
is, after all, a painting that resolves
the irritating swings of a taxed evolution.
It seems that energetic trainees
of the future keep firm invitations
on the list of approved measures.
Yet living is not a guesstimate, reality
is attached by humor to the document
that simply reads "I'm not sure."
Imagine civilization as eight-years-old.
By want, business drains, not one laugh,
but the replacement of being one's own.
Shaped, the body is wary of the
counselor and satisfied by the character
of a farmer and time away from scorn.
Hang a map of sensibility in the kitchen,
where bare eyes can respond -- tokens of
action are the door prize for motivation.
The lessons not yet learned are musical.
If you loved me so much
You would have known.
You would have known I don't like
Sugar in my tea
And that I can't sleep without my demons
Side by side with me.
That when I suggested no, I was
Hoping you'd agree.
You would have known I needed stability-
Not whatever this is you've given me.
I can't waste away my heart
on something so untrue,
I cannot give my love
to unfaithful you.
If you really loved me,
These are things you would have known.
I've no time for your apology,
Please leave me alone.
But let this be a lesson to you,
That cheaters never prosper,
And liars never grew.
Look at her elegance
She draws you close
And with one simple smile
you have lost all hope
She had other intensions
When she let you in
The angel who once
Cried tears of blood
You poisoned her
You made her dark
All because of the
Weakness of your mind
The shirt he wore was splattered with gore,
His shoes were soaked in blood.
He couldn't carry the burden he wore
So he killed her just for fun.
But now every time he looks around
He sees her face, a haunting.
He wants to be a better person now
Cause he finds this hobby daunting.
He's murdered many but with each new kill
He is more overcome with fear.
This thing he once thought was a thrill
He can now barely stand to hear.
He tried to get away from it all
But he couldn't flee its presence.
And as he made his way down the hall
Someone erased his very existence.