Profile a man.
What do you see?
Murderer? Cleaner?
Smoker?
Cleaner smoker.
Busybody supervisors.
'he does hoover with extreme vigor'.
'but did you hear about the murders?'

Ready the horses,
Wax clean the saddle.
I'm riding again.
To battle, to the end.

Take me to paradise
Simple paradise.
Wholesome paradise.
Lonely paradise.

Haha what ******* absolute gibberish.
The screen is glazed with honey.
Words. What are words when the honey is so sweet. Sweet enough to drown out insignificance.
The screen of honey is strong and is a sieve for *****.

The sudden realisation that you're toxicaly self aware is poisoness and astounding and who the **** even cares. You're a hippo you're a butterfly, a god. And you're deeply, unrepentantly alone. In your hole. Down your well. Floating in a stream up that doesn't exist.

Falsetto feelers,
The audience is deaf.
Crescendo seekers,
Tone ******* deaf.

Mind your own business,
Screams out the crowd,
The deafness is deafening.
The artist now bows.

Take a little sugar
Stick it in your eye
The world seems so much sweeter
Than the one that's in your mind.

A friend once said to me,
I'm worried sugar,
I'm worried what we've become.
'I'm worried how much you're doing, sugar'
The sugar soon solves his woes.

Cigarette lit,
Dancing embers in the rain.
Breathe in.

Head to the sky.
Exhale.

A pause.
A thought.
A moment for yourself.

Bliss.

Let the downpour wash away the tears.

Kettles, hob rings, and rancid buttered things.
Teabags, eye bags, wishing I was dead.
*******, regret stains, killing me inside,
Fruit juice, footloose, do it all again.

The end is oh so sweet.
We're telling the story as they see it.
As they want to hear it.
To take it in.
They try to adopt it.
And we spiel on. Speak and spiel and ramble. A sad story never told but never heard. And never listened to.
Our deaf concert. Our gouged eyed gallery.
Ours but silent.
Ours but deficient.
Ours but just for us.
As we twirl down and around this silly path together, one tiptoe behind the other.
You and me him and I.
The object and the thing.
This is me and we are it.
The object, slammed and squished down the plughole, by grotty fingers through a grimey grate. That is grateful. Because. And this is the real cuntfucker.
I am.
I exist.
I stain a stainless slab of green.
In an endless ocean of nightmares for those that have vision to see but are deaf enough to see. And
Now you have it
My heart in your hands.
And the beat is a rhythm for you to play.
So let the deconstructed Orchestra fill the room.
And let's allow.
Just this once.
The little boy to sing.

Red kimono.
She scoops him up.
The liquid kimono fills her arms.
Wailing to the sky.
Nobody hears.
She stares through the tears.
The tears at the tears.
His wrists draining in her arms.
A mother can bleed for a child.
And die for him.
But not live for him.

Lying in a bed of needles
Just you and me and our bed sheets
Lying in our friendship circle
It's lonely in our circle holdout.
The only way to breathe; is get out
When you're here with me there's no sound.

Empty smiles, such fakeness
People say that you should never hurt.
Never say what they truely feel.
As my world is breaking
Smashed to pieces in my universe.

Trail blazing for coins
She chunners to herself.
Singing a song
Nobody knows.
Vocational begging
She has all the skills.
Whatever you want.
Give her a quid,
She'll shower you with praise.
Give her a note,
She'll give your **** a name.
Pay her a fee,
She'll writhe in the dark.
Patrolling the alleys
It's all the same.
Her gypsy heroism
Keeping all the girls safe.
Her job is the same.
Toothless by daylight.
Desirable in dark.

Curled wrists
Hung spine
Garroted feet
Twisted hands.

Wined, dined, not a lady in sight.
Stomach lump. Body drunk.
Time a line of pudding.
Start your engines. Wave the flag.
This cart will race for miles.
No horizon. No turn off.
Miles and miles and miles.

Welcome to global thunder.
Have a stormy nighty.
I hope that your child dies of heartattack.

Did you sleep soundly?
With your child's corpse?

Can you hear the incinerator?
Killing all the the nightmares.
It's beautiful. Simple. Flame and forgetting.

Where is your child now?
'ah! Let me get you a new one, that isn't afraid of gunfire.'

He drinks in his bitterness
His communion wine
He guzzles it down
Washing over him
A river of hate.
Anew he rises.
Proud and afraid.
Unloved and despised.
Just the way he likes it.

Crust around the edges
Of a molten black blancmange.
Sealing in the flavour.
A magnificent masterpiece.

Head going nowhere,
Mind out of control.

Walking in circles,
No way back home.

Complain at the sky
Cry on the floor
Suffer through everything in between.

Your world is dead, dumb, and blind to you.

Crack pipe lyrics
Can you feel your lips?
Puff in the smoke
Ocarina of time,
Smoke on the water
As you ******* your mind.
Blanket of troubles,
Show bed relief,
People passing by
Let them gawp at your needs.
Handle circumstances
All that you can
Fumble in the playground
Of the world in hands.
Smoke another pipe
Let it sink in your skin.
The world's no longer sideways
And you can hear yourself think.

Please can we leave?
My teeth grind,
People smile with aggressive charm.
Please can we leave?
They laugh maniacly,
At me
Please, can we just leave?
Nah, have another line.
The feather cushion is an interesting distraction.
Fluffy fumbling. Faffy fascination.

Open your palms
Up to the sky
Hope that it comes.

Put them in water
Trailing away
Not you, today

Watch your way out
Wash away.

Inside I cry, I watch you listen,
Your hand stretched out, I see you pleading.
You try and fumble, to lift my burden
Desperate only to stop the bleeding

Inside I drown, you hold me so tight
Trying your best, anchor of normality
Your hold is strong your smile shines so bright
Lost in a hurricane, a storm of pure volatility

I suffocate, I frantically seek a way out
My fingers are blooded, the coffin stays shut
Lost in a labyrinth of frenzy, a jesters redoubt
I pray in the dark to bathe in your light, but

How can you ever understand?
The lunacy behind
This loving, loyal, poison, hateful
Acid heart of mine
Can you ever know?
The insanity behind,
These longing, desperate, self-destructive
Lonely eyes of mine?

Does a dozen make a dime?
Does a dime make a difference?
Does a difference make a dossier?
Does a dossier make any sense at all because this is making about as much sense as your life which is as delightfully nonsensical as this script.

Inside our sollace, our suicide, our killing and ******.
Inside in its splendor and its candid horror.
The door is terrifying. Terrific! And terrible.
The other world, clawing, scraping at the seams.
Bounce away on your bouncy castle you silly little boy.
Break your legs and tear your throat.
There are more than your own eyes on your demise.

I know its plain
I know its sane
I know its white and hung outside
And the nails are inside out.
And they crisp you dry.
Its so lonely when the eye's are blind
And they look away, outside.
Its almost like your tomb is inside out .
Your mausoleum is spitting out pen pals.
Its lonely when you're hung out to dry,
Like an angel delight thats butterscotch blind.
Hanging high beneath the beetroot sky.
It won't matter now.
They'll blind thier eyes.

Heartbeat clipping at his brain
He lies in his puddle of misery
Breath absent
Feelings dull
A smile rips across his face.

Living on work, lines, ****, liquor,
Queen of wine. My kingdom beckons.
Chic, glamour, shut in, slippers,
Empty throne for a day, I reckon.

Pull on your face,
Drink wine with your friends.
Curdle at crying children.
This life is perfect
Everything smiles at you.
Dig a hole
It'll be yours forever.

Fingers against the portrait.
Dragging the vision into despair.
Landscape lop-sided.
Stock photo nightmare.
Bared against the lies.
Deformation of character, a characteristic cliché.
A teardown of deception is more like it.
But let's lay close to our lilo of lies in the cesspool of sporadic secrets.

Brave he is.
The Knight.
Sleeping gently,
In his bed of wine and ******.
And fear.
At the sword at the neck.
The bright slash to break the daydream.
Armour flashes to flesh.
To bread, the fleshes armour.
Starvation Steel Plate.
The rebellion is hungry.
The armory will provide defence.

Dumpster fire jesus
Poked holes in his hands.
A sprinkling of stigmata.
For all of his fans.

Dumpster fire jesus
Resurected himself.
After a hard night on drugs
He woke up, not quite himself.

Dumpster fire jesus
Turned water to wine
When he went to the shop
When the dinner table ran out of wine.

Dumpster fire jesus
Has crucified himself
When he stood, spread eagle
And hung himself.

I hate weekdays.
Claggy and samey
Rolling on.
Sticky.
Vanilla void
To weekends wildness.

How deep.
Does.
The Satan Pit.
Go.

Goodness gracious.
Vinaigrette vivacious
Testicular temptatious.
As we're all falling down.
Atishoo. Hiemlich maneuvers.
Justiciar. Sensible says a lot to say.
Especially if I say nothing.
For a fortune.

And here we have it ladies and gentleman.
A scene before your eyes.
A man who had it all
Everything
Good health
Good family
The best friends.
But instead he chose this.
Look at him now
Dancing his merry tune.
Be fascinated at how exhausted he is
Simply breathing.
Astounding is it not?
Well
Good people
That's not all
Watch what happens
When we give him
A gentle
KICK!

Be who you want to be,
Believe in yourself.
They need a new target to destroy.

As he pulled the creature closer to his lips,
He paused.
He felt his arms pull away,
He felt his throat close.
So innocent. So friendly.
He felt the creatures cold, silky embrace pine for him to drink.
He looked at the creature.
Silent.
Inanimate, but bubbling with possibilities.
He allowed his lips to touch the creature,
To kiss the rift at the end of turning back .
He sipped. He drank. He guzzled.
He drowned in the creature as it caressed an unquenchable thirst.
And then the creature was gone.
No matter. There are many more.
His eyes filled with desire, he took another one, and allowed insatiable need to fill his mind.

Tell me,
What do you see?
Tell me,
Will I be free?
Do you, feel what I feel?
Make me, feel how you feel.

Mother.
What do you see?
Do you, see what I see?
Is this, how you saw me?
Will you, ever see me?
This way, yours, who knows? Maybe?

The sun cleaved into his eyelids.
He stuttered into life.
Showered with regret and shame
He toweled himself down.
He stared into the mirror.
And readied his venom,
To spit again.

The scabbard.
Is the finality.
Fatal. Flailing hopelessly
She sits. On her steel eyed throne.
She sees all, everything you think is you.
She's ready.
Steel kisses, hissing through the throat, bleeding fallen youths.
She sits tight, ready for the next days feast.

Monolith of despair.
Obsidian door. But open a crack.
Enough to see the pain shining through.
I knock on the sarcophagus.
She answers tentatively.
Painful, anxious.
The mummy is awake,
Today is a good day.

Early morning strikes again,
Up I rise,
Collect my head,
Stare at the zombie,
caged in the mirror on the wall.

Come cut off your pound of flesh,
I don't want to pay my debts,
Dump my carcass,
Rotting freedom on the floor.

The ***; he drinks his coffee.
A coffee with a ***.

With coffee, he smokes a cigarette,
A coffee with a ***.

He enjoys a smoke and coffee,
The ***, coffee,with ***.

He'll do the same tomorrow,
A coffee, and a ***.

Fetal cries,
Darkened skies,
Mind withdrawn and numb.

Shivering, jittering,
Skin wet, glittering,
Soaking on the floor.

Endless day,
Joyless pain,
Fight it out,
Battle on until tomorrow.

Flashing at the eyes, the TV shows the sky.
Why not go outside? It doesn't flash at the eyes.
Listening to nonessential gibberish,
The TV chunners on.
Why not go outside? It doesn't chunner gibberish.
Looking out the window, the TV shows the window.
Why not go outside.
The TV shows outside.

The angle is clear, go.
We saw all thier hopelessness.
Pray heaven for them, they weep thier lonely songs.
Crying empty tears through moulded heartless glass goggles.
Clawing at what is set before,
We see what we bled behind,
The laceration, crystal inevitability.
Hindsight is a hand grenade.
Would you blow up yourself?
Pieces. Jigsaw. Do they match up?
Black bag demon swimming effortlessly through the air. He knows his destination and he glides effortlessly across the chunks of human.
Cradle to the grave. Polyethylene panther.
Silent in its mission but getting tired of a full meaty meal. What makes a bodybag in the desert?