the sun is a done
bun hon'.
worry now,
it can't be undone.
hurry now,
your pens and paper for fun.

you know it's too soon
to feel the flurry bow
down to rend bones
into red and vapor for fun.

so **** my **** and call me cherry.
pour the sherry one more time,
I can feel the divine
flesh and scrape her for fun.

knives and saccharine,
guns to blow the *****
off each and every one.
don't worry hon',
it's just for fun.

"So the pen is mightier? who'da'thunk'it."
He said to the bleeding man tied down
to a messed, stained, bed.

The bound man figured,
even though he just got
to an LA plagued
by criminals, killers, and copy-cats,
that he wasn't getting out of here whole,
finally.

Holding a pen knife,
red-faced and sweating,
was his captor.
It had been a struggle
to awake and realize
who stood before him:
Quill.

The exact killer he'd been looking for.
He had heard about him in the Halo Herald,
An LA pun, it's not very popular,
but he liked the funny section.

"Are you just going to stand there?"
The bound man says, eagerly,
"Hey bud, you're the hanged man,
I'll do the talking."

"It's about time!"

"huh?"

"I'd been waiting.
heard you'd be at that
open mic. Knew you liked
the mealy type."

"Shuddup or I'll write you off."

Quill runs his pen knife over the bound man's right cheek.

"Stings a little.
Usually, I start with a rufie
and emotional damage.
But it looks like you
want to cut to the chase.
I'm a man of a similar mind.
spirit.
problem."

"Nobody's like me dude."

The bound man locks eyes with Quill.

"What're your trophies? huh?
I read you like to drain your victims,
cook'em dry.
don't you use their blood and powdered remains as ink?
Short stories or something?"

"Oh, an avid reader?! it's your lucky day:
you get to be part of the collection!"

The lamp nearby tumbles
to the floor as Quill lunges,
ready to ****.

"Wait! Don't you want to know who I am!"

"Not really."

"I'm a ser-"
The sentence is finished by
nothing but the sound of blood
and air
gurgling
into places it was never meant to be
as Quill's blade passes through flesh.

"Pfft, what, you think you're special?"
Quill saunters over to the sink.
"I'd hate to waste ink.
but there'll be more.
there's always more.
isn't that right, Celine."
he says to no one
and stands there with a smirk
as if listening to her.

****...
Frock..
Flock.
Bock!

Bock bock bock!
Mother mother bock,
Mother mother bock bock
Mothercluck mothercluck
eggsh eggsh eggsh

1 2,
1 2 3 Crack!
Eggs eggs cheese,
Baking biscuits
Frying spud
Mix'n roux
Squashing beefs,
Squashing beefs beefs beefs.

Rolling patties,
Flipping bacon.
Who eat the bacon?
We eat the bacon!
Roll'n patties-

-uuuh yeah, let me get a bacon'n'egg

In'a'tick little man.
I'll put that **** in my pan.
If the thank you doesn't show,
You can owe me *******-

Imperial March ringtone

-Checks cell and ignores call-

"Who was that?"
"What? Oh,
Just another annoying memory."

-OH!
My kitchen love!
Ovee Ovee Ove-n
I think I wanna roast-ya toast-ya!

They call me Racer Steven
this is my car, sky-blue,
I haven’t raced in a long time, maybe too long
I just gotta concentrate, can’t get distracted
I want them to know me as:

The man who went fast enough

On a cobweb afternoon
In a room full of emptiness
By a freeway I confess
I was lost in the pages
Of a book full of death
Reading how we'll die alone
And if we're good, we'll lay to rest
Anywhere we want to go

At slow speed we all seem focused
In motion we seem wrong
In summer we can taste the rain

Two can play this game
We both want power
In winter we can taste the pain

I want you to be free
Don't worry about me

Coming out to the light of day
We got many moons that are deep at play
So I keep an eye on the shadow's smile
To see what it has to say
You and I both know
Everything must go away
Ah, what do you say?
Spinning knot that is on my heart
It's like a bit of light and a touch of dark
You got sneak attacked from the zodiac
But I see your fire spark
Eat the breeze and go
Blow by blow and go away
Oh, what do you say?

Wish we could turn back time
To the good old days
When our momma sang us to sleep
But now we're stressed out

We used to play pretend,
give each other different names
We would build a rocket ship
and then we'd fly it far away
Used to dream of outer space,
but now they're laughing at our face saying
"Wake up, you need to make money"

you don't know my mind
You don't know my kind
Dark necessities are part of my design and
Tell the world that I'm falling from the sky
Dark necessities are part of my design

Now I'm having trouble trying to sleep
I'm counting sheep but running out
As time ticks by, still I try
No rest for crosstops in my mind

And with the early dawn
Moving right along
I couldn't buy an eye full of sleep
And in the aching night under satellites
I was not received

My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed
Dried up and bulging out my skull
My mouth is dry, my face is numb
****** up and spun out in my room

Built with stolen parts
A telephone in my heart
Someone get me a priest
To put my mind to bed
This ringing in my head
Is this a cure or is this a disease?

My mind is set on overdrive
The clock is laughing in my face
A crooked spine, my senses dulled
Past the point of delirium
On my own, here we go

Nail in my hand
From my creator
You gave me life
Now show me how to live

And in the after birth
On the quiet earth
Let the stains remind you
You thought you made a man
You better think again

Before my role defines you

you don't know my mind
You don't know my kind
Dark necessities are part of my design and
Tell the world that I'm falling from the sky
Dark necessities are part of my design

Breathing in the dark, lying on its side

The ruins of the day painted with a scar

And the more I straighten out, the less it wants to try

The feelings start to rot, one wink at a time

forgiving who you are, for what you stand to gain
Just know that if you hide, it doesn't go away
When you get out of bed, don't end up stranded
Horrified with each stone on the stage, my little dark age

In your house, I long to be
Room by room, patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like one of those stones
I'll wait for you there
Alone

And on my deathbed I will pray
To the gods and the angels
Like a pagan to anyone
Who will take me to heaven
To a place I recall
I was there so long ago
The sky was bruised
The wine was bled
And there you led me on

My life's a bit more colder
Dead wife is what I told her
Brass knife sinks into my shoulder
Oh babe, don't know what I'm gonna do

I see my red head, messed bed, tear shed, queen bee, my squeeze
The stage it smells, tells
Hell's bells, miss-spells, knocks me on my knees
It didn't hurt, flirt, blood squirt, stuffed shirt, hang me on a tree
After I count down three rounds, in Hell I'll be in good company

It doesn't matter what they say
So long as they sing with inflection
That makes you feel they'll convey
Some inner truth or vast reflection
But they've said nothing so far
And they can keep it up for as long as it takes
And it don't matter who you are
If they’re doing their job then it's your resolve that breaks

Because the Hook brings you back
I ain't tellin' you no lie
The Hook brings you back
On that you can rely

No matter how much Peter loved her
What made the Pan refuse to grow

Was, that Hook brings you back

I was lying on the grass on Sunday morning of last week
Indulging in my self-defeat
My mind was thugged all laced
and bugged all twisted wrong and beat
Uncomfortable in three feet deep
Now the fuzzy stare from not being there
on a confusing morning week
Impaired my tribal lunar-speak
And of course you can't become
if you only say what you would have done
So I missed a million miles of fun

What you don't know won't hurt you
Ignorance is bliss
I'm a happy idiot
Waving at cars
I'm gonna bang my head to the wall
'Til I feel like nothing at all
I'm a happy idiot
To keep my mind off you
Stuck in a daze and I've lost my mind
I don't wanna stay
Where the blame's all mine

In our short years, we’ve come a long way
To treat it bad and throw it away
I want you to be free
Don't worry about me
And just like the movies
We play out our last scene

You won't cry, I won't scream

In our short years we’ve come a long way
To treat it bad and throw it away
And if we make a little space
A science fiction showcase
In our short film, a love disgrace
Dream a scene to brighten face
In our short years we’ve come a long way
To treat it bad, just to throw it away

No matter how much Peter loved her
It’s what made the Pan refuse to grow

Patience, shadow. While you're sick, there's no sight to see.
Little shadow, little shadow.
To the night, will you follow me?
Pardon, shadow, hold on tight to your darkened key.
Little shadow, little shadow.
To the night, will you follow me?
Closer, shadow, volume strikes, still we're cut free
of this song, little shadow
To the night, will you follow me?
Hey, shadow, stars, break of dawn, take a turn for stars, to my fantasy
Little shadow, to the night, will you follow me?

Sheets of empty canvas
Untouched sheets of clay
Were laid spread out before me
As her body once did
All five horizons
Revolved around her soul
As the earth to the sun
Now the air I tasted and breathed
Has taken a turn
Oh and all I taught her was everything
Oh I know she gave me all that she wore
And now my bitter hands
Chafe beneath the clouds
Of what was everything
Oh the pictures have
All been washed in black
Tattooed everything

I'm left wondering, had i had
some better sounds no one's ever heard
had i had a better hand that wrote some better words
had i had found some verses in an order that is new
had i hadn't had to rhyme every time I wrote
Had i been told that i'd get older,
maybe all my fears would shrink
But now I'm insecure, and I care what people think

I take a walk outside
I'm surrounded by
Some kids at play
I can feel their laughter
So why do I sear
Oh, and twisted thoughts that spin
Round my head
I'm spinning
Oh, I'm spinning
How quick the sun can drop away

Stuck in the shade
Where there's no sunshine
I don't wanna play
With them other kids in the sun

When we were young, the future was so bright
The old neighborhood was so alive
Was gonna make it big and not be beat
Now the neighborhood's cracked and torn
The kids are grown up, but their lives are worn
How can one little street swallow so many lives?

Chances thrown
Nothing's free
Longing for what used to be
Still it's hard, hard to see
Fragile lives
Shattered dreams
Oh the kids aren’t alright

**** it in **** it in **** it in
If you're Rin Tin Tin or Anne Boleyn
Make a desperate move or else you'll win
And then begin
To see
What you're doing to me this MTV is not for free
It's so PC it's killing me
So desperately I sing to thee
Of love
Sure but also of rage and hate and pain and fear of self
And I can't keep these feelings on the shelf
I've tried well no in fact I lied
Could be financial suicide but I've got too much pride inside
To hide or slide
I'll do as I'll decide and let it ride until I've died
And only then shall I abide this tide
Of catchy little tunes
Of hip three minute diddys
I wanna bust all our balloons
I wanna burn all our cities to the ground
I've found
I will not mess around
Unless I play then hey
I will go on all day. Hear what I say
I have a prayer to pray
That's really all this was

And now my bitter hands
Cradle broken glass
Of what was everything
All the pictures have
All been washed in black
Tattooed everything
All the love gone bad
Turned my world to black
Tattooed all I see
All that I am
All that I'll be

I know someday you'll have a beautiful life
I know you'll be a star
In somebody else's sky
But why
Why
Why can't it be
Oh can't it be mine

I've got one more chance to say I'm sorry
And I can't believe a lie
Say you need me

Wave the white flag
I surrender, I surrender, I surrender

I'm gonna need someone to help me
I'm gonna need somebody's hand
I'm gonna need someone to hold me down
I'm gonna need someone to care
I'm gonna writhe and shake my body
I'll start pulling out my hair
I'm going to cover myself with
The ashes of you and nobody's gonna give a ****

Do you have the time to listen to me whine
About nothing and everything all at once?
I am one of those
Melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone
No doubt about it

Now for seventeen years I've been throwing them back
Seventeen more will bury me
Can somebody please just tie me down
Or somebody give me a ******* drink

Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid
Or am I just ******?

My heart was breaking,
hands are shaking,
bugs are crawling all over me
My heart was breaking,
hands are shaking,
bugs are crawling all over me

I went to a shrink
To analyze my dreams
She says it's lack of freedom that's bringing me down
I went to a *****
She said my life's a bore
So quit my whining 'cause it's bringing her down

*******
Give me a drink
One more night
This can't be me
*******
If I can't get clean
I'm gonna drink my life away

And she’s in the back singing:

“He doesn't know, just how I feel
He don't seem to care
But my love is real
Lonely is the night
Wanting him to hold me tight
Deep shadows surround me
Nobody knows
The trouble I have with my man
Nobody cares
They just don't seem to understand
But it's time they found out
What true, true, true love is all about
Deep shadows surround me
Oh yes, oh yes they do”

Hey, my name's Blurryface
and I care what you think
In your house, I long to be
Room by room, patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like all those stones
I'll wait for you there
Alone

And in your welcoming hands
I will land, and roll out of my skin
And in your final hours I will stand

lost in the pages
Of a book full of death
I'll pick it up like a paperback
With the track record of a maniac

And on I’ll read,
just fast enough,
Until the day is gone
And sit in regret
Of all the things I've done
For all that I've blessed
And all that I've wronged
In dreams until my death
I will wander on
as:

the man who went fast enough

The day begins with a friendly voice,
a companion unobtrusive
plays that song that's so elusive
and the magic music makes the morning mood.

A rider hits the open road,
there is magic at his fingers
for the spirit ever lingers,
undemanding contact in his solitude.

Invisible airwaves crackle with life.
Bright antenna bristle with the energy.
Emotional feedback on timeless wavelength.
Bearing a gift beyond price, almost free.

A familiar song plays,
and he starts thinking to himself:

It was a long, long time ago, wasn’t it?
I can still remember how that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
that I could make those people dance,
and maybe they'd be happy for a while.
But February made me shiver
with every paper I'd deliver,
bad news on the doorstep
I couldn't take one more step.
I can't remember if I cried
when I read about their widowed brides,
but something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.

I see the bad moon a-rising.
I see trouble on the way.
I see earthquakes and lightnin'.
I see bad times today.
There's a bad moon on the rise.

So bye-bye, Miss American Pie.
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
singin', "This'll be the day that I die,
this'll be the day that I die."

They’re modern-day warriors
mean, mean stride.
Today's Tom Sawyers
mean, mean pride.
Though their minds are not for rent.
Don't put them down as arrogant
their reserve, a quiet defense
riding out the day's events.

And what you say about their company
is what you say about society.
Catch the mist, catch the myth
catch the mystery, catch the drift...

“Who are you?”

The tap drips,
the rider finishes his whiskey,
“I've looked under chairs,
I've looked under tables,
I've tried to find the key
To fifty million fables.

They call me The Seeker.

I've been searching low and high.
I won't get to get what I'm after
'til the day I die.”

They look at each other, then back at him,
“Who? Whaddya here for?"

He turns his glass upside down,
slams it on the bar
and says on his way out,
“I like smoke and lightnin'
heavy metal thunder
racing with the wind
and the feeling that I'm under.”
He gets his motor runnin',
heads out on the highway,
looking for adventure
in whatever comes his way.

Yeah, darlin' gonna make it happen.
Take the world in a loving embrace.
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space.
Like a true nature's child
we were born,
born to be wild.
We can climb so high,
“I never wanna die.”

Company, always on the run
destiny is a rising sun.
Oh,
he was born, 6 gun in his hand.
Behind a gun,
he'll make his final stand.
That's why they call him
bad company,
and he can't deny.
Bad company
'til the day he dies.

Screams break the silence,
waking from the dead of night.
Vengeance is boiling,
he's returned to **** the light.

Then when he's found who he's looking for
listen in awe and you'll hear him
bark at the moon.

Years spent in torment,
buried in a nameless grave.
Now he has risen,
miracles would have to save
those that the beast is looking for.
Listen in awe and you'll hear him
bark at the moon.

It's all the same, only the names will change.
Every day, it seems we're wastin' away.
Another place where the faces are so cold.
He'd drive all night just to get back home.

He’s a cowboy.
On a steel horse he rides.
He’s wanted dead or alive,
wanted dead or alive.

In the day he sweats it out on the streets
of a runaway American dream,
at night he rides through the mansions of glory
in suicide machines
sprung from cages on Highway 9.
Chrome wheeled, fuel-injected, and steppin' out over the line,
oh, baby this town rips the bones from your back
it's a death trap, it's a suicide rap
he gotta get out while he’s young.

Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'
Into the future.
He wanna fly like an eagle,
to the sea,
fly like an eagle, let his spirit carry him.
he wants to fly like an eagle
'til he’s free,
oh Lord, through the revolution.

But a storm is threatening
The Seeker’s very life today,
“If I don't get some shelter
I'm gonna fade away.
War, children!
It's just a shot away.
War, children!
It's just a shot away.
See the fire is sweepin'
our streets today,
it burns like a red coal carpet
and a mad bull lost its way.”

Out there in the fields
they fight for their meals,
they get their back into their living,
“We don't need to fight
to prove we’re right,
we don't need to be forgiven.”

The seeker feels around for his honesty,
“So, so you think you can tell
heaven from hell?
Blue skies from pain?
Can you tell a green field
from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
Did they get you to trade
your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange
a walk-on part in the war
for a leading role in a cage?”

“There must be some kinda way outta here.”
Said The Seeker to his radio,
“There's too much confusion
I can't get no relief.

Businessmen, they drink my wine,
plowmen dig my earth,
none will level on the line
nobody of it is worth.”

Invisible airwaves crackle with life.
Bright antenna bristle with the energy.
Emotional feedback on timeless wavelength.
Bearing a gift beyond price, almost free.

“No reason to get excited.”
The radio, it kindly spoke,
“There are many here among us
who feel that life is but a joke.
But, uh, but you and I, we've been through that
and this is not our fate,
so let us stop talkin' falsely now
the hour's getting late.”

But he knows
that we'll be fighting in the streets
with our children at our feet.
And the morals that they worship will be gone.
And the men who spurred us on
sit in judgment of all wrong,
They decide and the shotgun sings the song.

We'll tip our hats to the new constitution,
take a bow for the new revolution,
smile and grin at the change all around,
pick up our pens and poems,
Just like yesterday,
then we'll get on our knees and pray
that we don't get fooled again.

After this thought, he promises himself,
and any who’s listening,
“Well, I won't back down.
No, I won't back down.
You can stand me up at the gates of hell,
but I won't back down.”

Carry on, my wayward son,
there'll be peace when you are done.
Lay your weary head to rest,
don't you cry no more.

Once he rose above the noise and confusion
just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion.
He was soaring ever higher
but he flew too high.

Though his eyes could see, he still was a blind man.
Though his mind could think, he still was a mad man.
He hears the voices when we’re dreaming,
he can hear them say:
“Carry on, my wayward son!”

He hears! riding off he says,
“Don't stop me now,
don't stop me.
'Cause I'm fighting for my country, fighting for my love.
I'm a shooting star leaping through the sky,
Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity.
I'm a peaceful man who must fight
so I'm gonna go, go, go!
There's no stopping me.
I'm burnin' through the sky,
200 degrees,
that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit.
I'm traveling at the speed of light!”

There's a place up ahead and we’re goin'
just as fast as our feet can fly.
Come away, come away, if you're goin'
leave the sinkin' ship behind.

Come on the risin' wind,
we're goin' up around the bend.

Bring a song and a smile for the banjo.
Better get, while the gettin's good.
Hitch a ride to the end of the highway
where the neon's turn to wood.

Come on the risin' wind,
we're goin' up around the bend.

In a place he only dreamt of,
where his soul is always free.
Silver stages, golden curtains
filled his head, plain as can be.
As a rainbow grew around the sun
all his stars of love who died
came from somewhere beyond the scene you see,
these lovely people played just for him:

“Green grass and high tides forever.
Castles of stone souls and glory.
Lost faces say we adore you
as kings and queens bow and play for you.
Those who don't believe us,
find their souls and set them free.
Those who do believe and love,
this time will be their key.
Time and time again we've thanked you
for peace of mind.
You helped us find ourselves
amongst the music and the rhyme
that enchants you here.”

Then the door was open, and the wind appeared.
The candles blew and then disappeared.
The curtains flew and then he appeared,
Saying, “don't be afraid.
All your times have come
here but now they're gone.
Seasons don't fear the reaper
nor do the wind, the sun, or the rain.”

We're leavin' together,
but still, it's farewell
and maybe we'll come back
to Earth, who can tell?
I guess there is no one to blame.
We're leaving the ground,
will things ever be the same again?
It's the final countdown,
it’s his final breath,
and with it
The Seeker finds his mark,

“We all hear the call of a lifetime ring,
felt the need to get up for it.
You cut out the middleman.
You got no time for the messenger.
Got no regard for the thing that you don't understand.
You got no fear of the underdog.
That's why you will not survive.”

Hello, allow me to introduce myself.
My name is Jocund, The Gardener.
Living lucid, a fellow mind traveler.

That’s kind of like a chill Childe wanderer
Of the flowing forest floor,
Feathered cotton or greening words
On the wind unravel-er;
Gone’a’wandering in untraveled soils,
A seed settler.

Tragedy left my face sneer metered,
Mouth stretched sideways,
Toothy as a dumb grinning jester.

Yearning to make one stupid gesture,
So you’ll see I’m not too interested in being above or lesser.
Just on a mission,
Learning how to be both student and teacher:

Drawing abyssal blueprints,
Joining the disillusioned,
Describing a dynamic curriculum
And coding oaths like Odin’s to bind Cosmic-Woden’s
--Mr. Omnipotent to us rodents—undying reticulum.


Re-programmed to generate runic music
Nomenclature shaped in the underlying resonating
That is every particle operating in unison.

So I'm riding the chronicled-Euclidean space-time continuum
Of balance known to us as equilibrium,
And can you feel me breathing?

It’s the giving and taking and pushing and pulling of gravity propagating,
Bending light under and rending sight of what will be and what has been.

Oh well,
[Where], (when), {how} I am is what matters most to me.

“Jinkies!”
“What is it Velma?!”
“I think that’s Relativity.”

So, speaking relatively
I’d rather deduce from what’s relevant to me,
Lather rinse and reduce the divine to dust in the winds of time,
And maybe see the truth behind {who}, [what], (why) I’m-

[{assburgian]}: high functioning and genius,
Mumbling, s-st-stutterin', tic tic-ing and tremblin’.
it's ****-chilling and tedious.

But wait! There’s more.

{(Bipolar}): slightly manic, and comically dramatic.
Severely depressed and in a silent panic.
Practically sleepless, it’s fairly fantastic.
My memory I mean,
If all my senses witness a scene
The info is sealed within me perfectly,
Perceptually and verbally,
Non-mutational, stability.

In the short term, unfortunately,
My focus is overloaded with scenery
Of bullies, abusers, and over-users.
It’s misery listening to scratched records on repeat,
Immune to wrecking.
For that I thank my ([ADHD)]: predominately inattentive
Wtih dsylixea, definitive alcoholism, drug addiction, and the list goes on.
So yeah, I’m on the spectrum, I’m a functional positron.

“That guy’s *******, He can’t even act right.
He’s emotionless, a mindless robot.
There’s no empathy in that golem.
That ugly alien’ll never be like you or me,
He’s clueless, aloof and downright foolish.
So let’s just forget that freak, he kinda scares us.”

Oh yeah?
Well keep that **** in your ******,
Order the facts and double check’em.

“We're not so different you, me, and them.
We just built a bent border 'round the word disorder.
Sure, that’s the preference, to make no inference.
Ignorance is bliss, right?”

For my defense?
Well golly-gee thanks, that’s all lovely and great.
But now the neurologically typical person
Thinks they can fix me, without knowing my burdens
Like, “you’s gots a d’zeez cuz’a factseens”

This "cray" **** gets me irate.
Diagnoseez wrapped in fear-mongering, seen with hate,
And convinced to wait for a miracle.
Well too bad so sad,
The difference is anatomical.
So treating me means training me
To be “normal, deviations nominal.”

(Am I ******’a dog, what the ****?!
Wait, back it up and mix that bit up.)
“What the ****, am I a ******’ dog?!
Oh, if they knew the truth they’d think I’m a ******* demigod.”
(Ha right, more like a log full buried eternally in'a boggle.)

My parents tried and tried for my birth,
They almost considered me impossible.
I was nearly inconceivable.
Then the multi-verse cursed,
And that message was receivable,
I heard it was a freakin’ miracle.
Not that mom cared, she was irresponsible.
Wanted to be a free mirth queen.

Aww, she just needed security.
Even after my birth on Friday 3/13/92 into a noose,
Loosely scorned and hardly lyrical.
They had to remove me surgically from the womb and
Now I've grown oddly into a super human body.

I’m physically atypical with an extra lumbar vertebra.
Some think me mythical, my hearts cage is even, part of a
Hard skeleton wearin’ *** appeal and a
Strong fresh sheath of flesh that’s quick to heal.
Ask me to speak, out comes a voice so deep you’d think the sky fell.

I’m mentally inexplicable,
Thinking in infinite Voices simultaneously painting imagery indefinitely.  
It has me lagging in a neuronal-conundrum.
I’m containing a brain wound up and
So over-wired it's redundant.

Making my head so heavy the ground is over-tired,
Barely overcoming addiction to dilating mundane details.
And a bit slow to obtain'em,
Those growing verbal-perceptual rains of information.
It's why I'm highly aware of the visual-spatial patterned puzzle pieces of existence.

So my mind is orbiting off in the distance,
Oblivious to non-verbal relation,
Just spaced-out communication.
I'm nearly incompatible
With most people in this global nation.
Everyone's got recipes for lemonade,
And I've got durian, that's **** ironical.
I told you, the difference is anatomical.
Can't be changed, so forget being normal tragically!

“That’s great and all,
But you still can’t communicate,
Associate,
Or surmount your human viewpoint
And recreate.
So what’s the point, you’ll never amount
And you shouldn't be allowed to procreate,
Just **** yourself.”

Shut the **** up, mate!
No one is beyond help,
And I'm in good health.
So who says I need your help.

I’m a catch-it-all trainer,
Long distance sprinter,
Heavy weight lifter,
Martial arts practitioner,
And Muay Thai fighter
Of the metaphysical plane or
Flyin’ my x-wing, taking out tie fighters.
Muckin’ up misinformed storm troopers,
Shovin’ **** back down their word poopers.

Yeah, I’ve tried playin’ The Game
That society designed.
But that sick joke
Was painfully lame.
And the punchline,
All but broke me.


I died philosophically.
Spent three days regenerating.
Re-writing my subconscious poetry
Like The Doct-uh,
The Boo-duh,
Or Mist-uh
Believe-in-me.

Pulverizing words into compost,
Composing metaphor to re-code seeds
Set to regrow self-trees from the ground up.
Splitting myself up into three categories,
(Mind), [body], and {me} all clowned up.

It is a truly significant allegory,
Greening my being with jocundity.
Creating profundity for gardening,
Generalizing and broadening the concept
And applying it metaphorically.

In the attempt
To join fantasy
With reality
And become truly
One with “we”;
Livin' and loven'in
Disparity and hilarity
Of you,
Me,
And every fellow
There is to see.

So, “hello
i am the gardener and
i am jocund and
…|[{(i am)}]|…
quite pleased
to meet
we.”

"My cousin's out fighting dragons, and what do I get? Guard duty."

i get it, there's nothing to me
but you don't need to grind it in either
i see nothing in me already

"You hear that? I swear, there's something out there. In the dark."

and I look good in person
but i think nothing of my shimmer
i don't expect people to like me
it's all opposite

"Only burglars and vampires creep around after dark.
So which are you?"

I've expected people to beat me
It's what i've known
and have to watch for

"Gotta keep my eyes open.
**** dragons could swoop down at any time."

so no, i'm not what you seem to think
i am
or yes, I don't know
you'll listen to your own opinions about me
over anything I have to say:

"Watch the skies, traveler.”

Close to horizon
Edge flows, steep gravity wells,
Curving lines of sight.

Stage lights and the shimmer of red sequin
He read her like a book
And his teeth kept on shining,
he's been there before

She’s singin’,
“In Heaven
Everything is fine
In Heaven
Everything is fine
You got your good thing
And I've got mine

Everything is fine”

It’s enamoring, he thinks to himself,
“You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you
You'd be like Heaven to touch
I wanna hold you so much
At long last, love has arrived
And I thank God I'm alive
You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you

Pardon the way that I stare
There's nothin' else to compare
The sight of you leaves me weak
There are no words left to speak
But if you feel like I feel
Please let me know that it's real
Wise men say
"Only fools rush in"
But I can't help falling in love with you”

She’s looking back,
Fading as she sings and thinking,
“Will you hold me sacred? Will you hold me tight?
Can you colorize my life, I'm so sick of black and white?
Can you make it all a little less old?”

The song ends and she slips
into the bar-side
of his hunting grounds,
he feels ignored,
so he walks over
“Oh, What is love?
Oh baby, don't hurt me
Don't hurt me

Baby, don't hurt me
No more
Can you tell me,
What is love?”

Maybe it's too much so she bows out
“ok, can you make me some magic with your own two hands?
Can you build an emerald city with these grains of sand?
Can you give me something I can take home?”

“No,” he’s disappointed,
“I don't know why you're not fair
I give you my love, but you don't care
So what is right and what is wrong?
Gimme a sign”

She asks, ”What is love?
Oh baby, don't hurt me
Don't hurt me
No more

can you cater to every fantasy I got?
can you hose me down with holy water, if I get too hot?
can you take me places I've never known?

What is love?
Oh baby, don't hurt me
Don't hurt me
No more.”

He responds slowly,
Soon hurrying his words,
“Oh, I don't know, what can I do?
What else can I say? It's up to you
I know we're one, just me and you.
I can't go on.”

She scoffs,
“I know the territory, I've been around
It'll all turn to dust and we'll all fall down
Sooner or later you'll be ******* around”

“look,” he says, “I love you, baby
And if it's quite alright
I need you, baby
To warm the lonely night
I love you, baby
Trust in me when I say
Oh, pretty baby
Don't bring me down, I pray
Oh, pretty baby
Now that I've found you, stay
And let me love you, baby
Let me love you”

Some time passes
Some days it don't come easy
Some days it don't come hard
Some days it don't come at all
And these are the days that never end

Some nights she’s breathing fire
Some nights he’s carved in ice
Some nights she’s like nothing he’s ever seen before
or will again

Maybe I'm crazy, but it's crazy and it's true
I know she can save him, no-one else can save him now but her
As long as the wheels are turning
As long as the bays are burning
As long as her dreams are coming true
She’d better believe it
he would do anything for love
he knows it's true and that's a fact
he would do anything for love
And there'll never be no turning back

I know now though
Nothing lasts forever
And even time will pass
She’s gone to the winds
Of seasonal doubt,
He’s in a mood
and already out,
she pleads as he packs
“stay!”

and he says back to her,
“Shall I stay, would it be a sin?
If I can't help falling in love with you. no,
Sometimes I feel I've got to run away
I've got to get away
From the pain you drive into the heart of me
The love we share seems to go nowhere
And I've lost my life
For I toss and turn, I can't sleep at night

Once I ran to you
Now I run from you
This ******* you've given
I give you all a boy could give you
Take my tears and that's not nearly all.”

“but…”
she puts her hand on his shoulder

He recoils,
“Don't touch me please, I cannot stand the way you tease
I love you though you hurt me so
Now I'm gonna pack my things and go

If I should stay
Well I would only be in your way
and yet I know
I'll think of you each step of the way”

She’s there crying on the kitchen floor,
Left to live her life,

Many weeks slipped by her mood
Passing through the avenues
She meets her man
Before either found anyone new.

So they take a hike
And at the peak she starts talking,
“At first I was afraid, I was petrified
Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side
But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong
And I grew strong
And I learned how to get along
And so you're back
From outer space
I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face
I should have changed that stupid lock,
I should have made you leave your key
If I'd known for just one second you'd be back to bother me.”

He opens up a little,
“No matter how hard I try
You keep pushing me aside
And I can't break through
There's no talking to you
It's so sad that you're leaving me behind
It takes time to believe it
But after all is said and done
You might be the lonely one.”

She says “Do you believe in life after love?
I can feel something inside me say
I really don't think you're strong enough, no
Do you believe in life after love?”

He says, “I believe in a thing called love
Just listen to the rhythm of my heart
There's a chance we could make it now
We'll be rocking 'til the sun goes down
I believe in a thing called love

Give a little bit
Oh, give a little bit of your love to me
I'll give a little bit
I'll give a little bit of my love to you
There's so much that we need to share
So send a smile and show you care

See the man with the lonely eyes
Oh, take his hand, you'll be surprised
Like the river flows
Surely to the sea
Darling, so we go
Some things were meant to be
Take my hand, take my whole life too
'Cause I can't help falling in love with you”

She melts just enough to say,
“Just a little bit of love,
that is all we need for the second day.
Is it hard to be a friend,
for a little while in a simple way?
Just a little bit of love
and a friendly face makes the world look bright.
And a shining star above
will help you through the darkest night.

When you feel down,
don't sit and cry the whole day through.
Don't wonder why
it all must happen to you.
Put on your coat, come over.
No, it can't be that bad.
Put on a smile, don't look so sad.”

Then she asks, “Will you hold me sacred?
Will you hold me tight?
Can you colorize my life,
I'm so sick of black and white?
Can you make it all a little less old?”

“yes, I can do that
Oh I can do that” he answers

She continues,
“Will you make me some magic with your own two hands?
Can you build an emerald city with these grains of sand?
Can you give me something I can take home?”

He says, “I can do that”

Finally she asks,
“Will you cater to every fantasy I got?
Will you hose me down with holy water, if I get too hot?
Will you take me places I've never known?”

“I can do that
Oh, I can do that.” he finally answers

She can’t believe it,
“After a while you'll forget everything
It was a brief interlude and a midsummer night's fling
And you'll see that it's time to move on”

He holds on,
“No, I won't do that
I won't do that”

She finishes,
“I know the territory, I've been around
It'll all turn to dust and we'll all fall down
Sooner or later you'll be ******* around.”
Waiting for a reply…

He answers slowly,
Pacing himself,
Like it’s a race til death do us part,
“I won't do that
Anything for love
Oh, I would do anything for love
I would do anything for love
But I won't do that
No, I won't do that.”

RECORD: ****** JANET
FROGMAN: BARRY BOSTWICK & SUSAN SARANDON

Brad Threes (spoken): Hey Janet.

Janet Ones: Yes Brad.

Brad: I've got something to lay.

Janet: Uh huh.

Brad: I really loved the skillful way
         You beat the other ones
         To the braIde's bouquet.

Janet: Oh Brad.

(Stringing begins)

Brad: The stream was deep but I grabbed it.
           There's a face on me'head and you'd slammit

Family (Riff Raff & Magenta): Janet.

Brad: The future is OURS so let's can it.

Framily: (Riff Raff & Magenta): Janet.

Brad: So please don't tell me to planeit.

Framily (Riff Raff & Magenta): Janet.

Brad: I've one thing to say and that's
          ******, Janet.
          I love you.
          now,

i know three ways that love cancanflaux
That's good, bad, or gran-plan mediocre

Brad: Here's a thing to groove to that, I'm a joke'n.
          
Janet: Oh!......It's noicier than Letty Mungtoe had

Magenta: (Peering up from behind pile o'pew) Oh Brad.

Janet: Now we're engoraged and I'm so glad.

Magenta & Columbia: Oh Brad. (Both peer up and disappear)

Janet: That you met Mom
           And you know Dad.

Whole Framily: Oh Brad. (peering up together)

Brad Majors There's one thing left to do, ah-whoo
                       And that's go see the man who began it
                       When we met in his poe-science exam-it
                       Made me give you the eye and then panic
  
Now I've one thing to say, and that's
******, I'd love you

Janet (Taking his alcharm): Geez. I've one thing to say and that's,
                                             Brad I'm mad,
                                             with you too.

STOP: TURN THOUGHT

Oh, my name is Jack Stewart,
I’m a canny gang man
And a rovin’ young fellow I’ve been.

I’m a piper by trade,
I’m a ramblin’ young blade,
And ‘tis many the tune I can play.

Now here’s a simple song
To say what they done.
I told them about all those fears
And away they did run.
they sure must be strong,
And they feel like an ocean
Being warmed by the sun.

Their mouth is open wide,
The lover is inside
And the tumults done.
Collided with the sign,
They're staring at the sun,
They're standing in the sea.

I’ve got acres of land.
I’ve got men at command.
I’ve always a dollar to spare.

Note the trees because the
Dirt is temporary.
More to mine than fact, face,
Name, and monetary.

Put money in my hand and I will do the things you want me to.
Vanity overriding wisdom, usually common sense.
Should I delete it? they said they'd read it.
They promised they would never ruin it with sequels.

So come fill up your glasses of brandy and wine.
Whatever it costs, I will pay.
So be easy and free when you're drinking with me,
I'm a man you don't meet every day.

Now picture this, I'm a bag of *****, put me to your lips
I am sick, I will punch a baby bear in his ****
Give me lip, I'ma send you to the yard, get a stick
Make a switch, I can end the conversation real quick
Okay nobody speak, nobody get choked
You wanna here a good joke?

The comedy of man starts like this:
Our brains are way too big for our mothers' hips,
And so nature, she devised this alternative:
We emerge half-formed and hope
whoever greets us on the other end
Is kind enough to fill us in.
And babies, that's pretty much how it's been ever since.

Now the miracle of birth leaves a few issues to address.
Like, say, that half of us are periodically iron deficient.
So, somebody's gotta go **** something
While she looks after the kids.
She'd do it herself, but what, is he gonna get this thing its milk?
He says as soon as he gets back from the hunt, we can switch.
It's hard not to fall in love with something so helpless.
Ladies, I hope we don't end up regretting this.

That was then,
this is the twenty-first century,
And there’s too much aggravation.
It's the age of insanity,
What has become of the green pleasant fields of Jerusalem?

This is the age of machinery,
A mechanical nightmare,
The wonderful world of technology,
****** hydrogen bombs biological warfare.

There used to be a guy for this type of thing,
An underwater guy who controlled the sea,
Got killed by ten million pounds of sludge from New York
and New Jersey.

Water dissolving and water removing
There is water at the bottom of the ocean
Under the water, carry the water
Remove the water at the bottom of the ocean
Water dissolving and water removing.

Then there’s the creature in the sky
Got ****** in a hole, now there's a hole in the sky
And the ground's not cold.
And if the ground's not cold, everything is gonna burn.
We'll all take turns,
I'll get mine too.

Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by, water flowing underground
Into the cold again after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground.

So I ain't got no ambition, I'm just disillusioned.
I'm a twenty-first century man but I don't wanna be here.
My mama said she can't understand me,
She can't see my motivation.
Just give me some security,
I'm a paranoid schizoid product of the twenty-first century.

When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful
A miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical.
And all the birds in the trees, well they'd be singing so happily
Oh joyfully, playfully watching me.
But then they send me away to teach me how to be sensible
Logical, oh responsible, practical.
And they showed me a world where I could be so dependable
Oh clinical, oh intellectual, cynical.

Then I had visions, I was in them.
I was looking into the mirror
To see a little bit clearer
The rottenness and evil in me.

You know I think my schooling was phoney?
I guess it's hard not to agree.
You say, "It all depends on money
And who is in your family tree."
Right (right), you're ****** well right,
You got a ****** right to say.
Right, you're ****** well right,
You know, you got a right to say.

Been around the world and found
That only stupid people are breeding,
The cretins cloning and feeding,
And I don't even own a TV.

Put me in the hospital for nerves
And then they had to commit me.
You told them all I was crazy.
They cut off my legs, now I'm an amputee,
******* you.

I don't need no education.
We don't need no thought control,
No dark sarcasm in the classroom.
Teacher, leave us kids alone.
Hey! Uncle Sam! Leave us kids alone!

We wanna grow up to be
A debaser.

“Look at me, look at me
Hands in the air like it's good to be
Alive and I'm a famous rapper,
Even when the paths are all crookedy.
I can show you how to do-see-do.
I can show you how to scratch a record.
I can take apart the remote control,
And I can almost put it back together.
I can tie a knot in a cherry stem.
I can tell you about Leif Erikson.
I know all the words to "De Colores",
And "I'm proud to be an American".
Me and my friend saw a platypus.
Me and my friend made a comic book.
And guess how long it took.
I can do anything that I want cuz

Who gives a **** about an Oxford comma?
I've seen those English dramas too; they're cruel.

So, why would you speak to me that way?
Especially when I always said that I
Haven't got the words for you.
All your diction dripping with disdain,
Through the pain, I always tell the truth.”

“Look at me, look at me
Just called to say that it's good to be
Alive in such a small world.
I'm all curled up with a book to read
I can make money open up a thrift store.
I can make a living off a magazine.
I can design an engine
sixty four miles to a gallon of gasoline.
I can make new antibiotics.
I can make computers survive aquatic conditions.
I know how to run a business,
And I can make you wanna buy a product.
Movers shakers and producers,
Me and my friends understand the future.
I see the strings that control the system.
I can do anything with no assistance because

I give a **** about the Oxford Comma!
I climbed to Dharamsala too, I did.
I met the highest Lama.
His accent sounded fine to me.

Now, why would you speak to me that way?
Especially when I always said that I
Haven't got the words for you.
All your diction dripping with disdain,
Through the pain, I always tell the truth”

Comedy, now that's what I call pure comedy.
Just wait until the part where they start to believe
They're at the center of everything
And some all-powerful being
Endowed this horror show with meaning.

Now, Uncle Sammy, did you hear about this one?
Tell me, are you locked in the punch?
Sammy, are you grinding on a pelvis?
Hey baby, are you losing touch?

If you believed they put a man on the moon,
If you believe there's nothing up his sleeve,
Then nothing is cool.

Moses went walking with the staff of wood.
Newton got beaned by the apple good.
Egypt was troubled by the horrible asp.
Mister Charles Darwin had the gall to ask.
Well I took out my dogs and them I did shoot,
All down in the county Kildare.
So be easy and free when you're drinking with me,
I'm a man you don't meet every day

And in the Twenty-First Century
From the height of the highway onramp we saw,
Two dogs, dead in a field,
Glowing on the oakland coliseum green seats wasteland,
Dogs, dogs we thought were dead,
They rose up, rose up when whistled at,
their rib cage inflating like men on the beach being photographed,
A guard dog, guard dog, for what? for what?
Against tofers ellis pennyless athletics fanatics,
Getting into games through a whole in the fence,
For the owner of the blue tarp tent,
Pitched by a creek beneath an onramp,
In the privacy of the last three,
Skin and bony tree, devoid of leaves,
And us undeceased, and our new cds,
Dippin' on goodies, oakland
it's hard to stand the sight of two dogs dead under a sky so blue.

But you think you can tell
Heaven from hell?
Blue skies from pain?
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

I’ll say they secretly long to be some part of a car crash,
Long to see their arms stripped of the tendons,
The ****** of swelling exposed veins,
Webbing the back of their hands,
To be a red tendoned dog,
To be red tendoned dogs,
Blood breathing by the side of the highway.

Oh, their religions are the best.
They worship themselves yet they're totally obsessed
With risen zombies, celestial virgins, magic tricks.
These unbelievable outfits.
And they get terribly upset
When you question their sacred texts,
Written by woman-hating epileptics.
Their languages just serve to confuse them.
Their confusion somehow makes them more sure.
They build fortunes poisoning their offspring,
And hand out prizes when someone patents a cure.
Where did they find these goons they elected to rule them?
What makes these clowns they idolize so remarkable?
These mammals are hell-bent on fashioning new gods
So they can go on being thoughtless animals.

See the dwarfs an' see the giants,
Which one would you choose to be?
And if you can't get that together
Here's the answer, here's the key.
You can freeze like a a man of century thirty.

I'll save my breath and take it with me
Till a hundred years and so
Shame you won't be there to see me
Shaking hands with Charles de Gaulle.
Play it cool an' Saran wrap all you can
Be a century thirty man,
You can freeze like a century thirty man

So I live like everyday is my last,
But I plan for tomorrow as if I will never pass.
A Pharoah on the subway
Who never had dreams of jets but fell asleep on run ways.
I just know that one day, that anything I needed I could mold.
Get everything you want it ain't always good for the soul.
A mix of self-worth, some help, a little control,
And I don't know the rest, good as mine is your guess,
The recipe ain't the best, to make it though is our quest,
And if you choose to accept, the meaning of life is yes.

So, we ain't going to the town,
We're going to the city.
Gonna trek this **** around
And make this place a heart to be a part of, again.

That’s the dream but
There are times when all the world's asleep,
The questions run too deep
For such a simple man.
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned.
I know it sounds absurd,
Please tell me who I am.

Is this my starring role
Or just a cameo?
Who am I living for?
Well, I can't take no more,
'Cuz when it rains, it pours
What am I living for?
I don't got much, but I got heart and soul.
I found myself through all the highs and lows.
Oh Will I drown in the pain,
Or go dance in the rain?
What am I living for?

So, I can lead a nation with a microphone?
And I can split the atom of a molecule?
Look at me, look at me
Drivin' and I won't stop
And it feels so good to be alive and on top
My reach, is global
My tower, secure
My cause, is noble
My power,
is pure.

And it’s the end of the world as we know it.
it starts with an earthquake
Birds and snakes, and aeroplanes
And Lenny Bruce is not afraid
In the eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn
World serves its own needs
Don't mis-serve your own needs
Speed it up a notch, speed, grunt, no, strength
The ladder starts to clatter
With a fear of height, down, height
Wire in a fire, represent the seven games
And a government for hire and a combat site
Left her, wasn't coming in a hurry
With the Furies breathing down my neck.

Paranoia, paranoia,
Everybody's coming to get me.
Just say you never met me,
I'm running underground with the moles, digging holes.
Hear the voices in my head,
I swear to God it sounds like they're snoring.
But if you're bored, then you're boring.
The agony and the irony, they're killing me.

I’m dead but the world keeps spinning.
Take a spin through the world I left,
It's getting dark a little too early.
Am I missing the dearly bereft?

Timmy, Timmy, Timmy Turner
He was wishin' for a burner
To **** everybody walkin'
He knows that his soul in the furnace

Young man walkin', wishin' for a burner
Four, five, six, ten ratchets on 'em
Ten men with 'em, ten clappin' on 'em
Dead men with 'em, dead men, get 'em
Four-five rip 'em, four-five zip 'em
You talk money, young men get 'em
Beluga, beluga, beluga
he fell in love with the Ruger
he fell in love with his jeweler
he fell in love with the mullah
It's all about the rule
It's all about the move
It's all about the rules

That was then,
Now I am a man, man, man,
Up, up in the air
And I run around, round, round, round
this downtown and act like I don't care.
So when you see me flying by the planet's moon,
You don't need to explain if everything's changed
Just know I'm just like you.

So I pull the switch, the switch, the switch inside my head.
And I see black, black, green,
and brown, brown, brown and blue, yellow, violets, red.
And suddenly a light appears inside my brain
And I think of my ways,
I think of my days
and know that I have changed.

So, be easy and free,
when you’re drinkin’ with me
I’m a man you don’t meet every day.

Down at the local bar, there are two chairs.  
In one is a man named Logus,
Who came from The Desert of Nine Valleys;
In the other is a song-less musician named Sparrow.

Day after day
Alone in the bar
The man with the foolish grin
Is keeping perfectly still.
But nobody wants to know him,
They can see that he's just a fool.

He wandered very far,
Very far,
Over land and sea.
A little shy,
And sad of eye,
But very wise was he.
And then one day,
One magic day he looked Logus' way.
And while they spoke of many things,
Fools and kings,
This he said to him:

“Good morrow to thee, brother prisoner!
Do you realize that you have the most beautiful face?
Do you realize we're floating in space,
Do you realize that happiness makes you cry
And
Do you realize that everyone you know someday will die?”

Logus doesn’t want to bother with the bird,
”These are all lies
and jests.”

Sparrow retorts, “Still
A man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.
Now,
Drop your guard, you don't have to be smart all of the time.
I've got a mind full of blanks, I need to go somewhere new fast.
And don't be shy, oh no,
At least deliberately.

What was I saying?
Oh yeah.
Let me tell you a story that's sad but true,
About someone who just may remind you of you.
Let me tell you a tale that may help you awake a woozy head-
I'll buy you a drink
-It begins long ago on a happy day,
With a fool who was loved, but threw it all away,
Who exchanged a good home for a flophouse, a bar and a plank-“
Sparrow’s eyes begin to glisten--

Logus Interrupts,
“While we're on the subject,
Could we change the subject now?

My name is Logus,
I'm carrying the wheel.
Thanks for all you've shown us,
But this is how we feel.
Come sit next to me.
Pour yourself some tea.
Just like Grandma made,
When we couldn't find sleep.
Things were better then,
Once but never again.
We've all left the den
Let me tell you about it:

I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told.
I have squandered my resistance,
for an existence
In which
Ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for
And why it is here,
It will instantly disappear
And be replaced by something even more bizarre
And inexplicable.”

Sparrow began stirring in his seat,
”You know, there is another theory which states
That this has already happened.
And you lived that,
In exchange for a pocket full of mumbles,
Such are promises."

Logus looks at him,
“And? I am still alive.”

Sparrow rolls his eyes,
“Geez, you know
Somebody once asked, "could I spare some change for gas?"
I need to get myself away from this place."
I said, "yep what a concept,
I could use a little fuel myself,
And we could all use a little change."
Too bad
A fake Jamaican took every last dime with that scam.
It was worth it just to learn some sleight of hand.
Bad news comes, don't you worry even when it lands,
Good news will work its way to all them plans.

But the building's not going as we planned.
The foreman has injured his hand.
The dozer will not clear a path.”

Logus scoffs,
“You talk in maths.
You buzz like a fridge.
You're like a detuned radio.”


Sparrow Laughs, “You'll never be what is in your heart.
Weep little lion man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start.
You have a heart that's full up like a landfill,
A job that slowly kills you,
And bruises that won't heal.
You look so tired, unhappy.
Such pretty houses,
And such pretty gardens:
Green plastic water-cans
For fake Chinese rubber plants
In the fake plastic earth.

There's an empty space inside our hearts
Where the weeds take root.
And now I'll set you free,
I'll set you free.”


They both left right on time,
The Sparrow accosted his mind.
The Sparrow said,
"Hey man, we go all the way"
Of course, they were willing to pay.
Back to the street,
Down to their feet.
Losing the feeling of feeling unique,
Do you know what I mean?

Well on the way,
Head in a cloud,
The bird of a thousand voices
Talking perfectly loud.
But I never heard him
Or the sound he appeared to make.
And he never seemed to notice.
But the fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down,
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning 'round.
Of course, everyone goes crazy
Over such and such and such.
We made ourselves a pillar
We just used it as a crutch.
We were certainly uncertain
At least, I'm pretty sure I am.
Well, we didn't need the water
But we just built that, good *******.

For most have found both freedom and safety in their madness;
The freedom of loneliness
And the safety from being understood,
for those who understand us
Enslave something in us.

But let me not be too proud of my safety.
Even a Thief in a jail is safe from another thief.
And Horses run fastest on the way home.

Logus and Sparrow had just that in mind,
and so, after deciding to take Sparrow’s ride, they left.
After dragging themselves into the car
Logus looked at Sparrow from the passenger seat,
“I keep myself in
To pull myself out.
I'm rising up,
Wish I was sinking down.
And it's not like
There was warning
We were happy.
And it's not like
There was mourning
In the warning.

I guess I am a scout.
So I should find a way out.
So everyone can find a way out.

I know I am a scout.
I should've found a way out.
So everyone can find a way out.

Sparrow starts his car, the ignition doesn’t turn at first,
It’s an older model so it takes a few tries.
Sparrow turns to Logus,
“Well, that is that and this is this.
Will you tell me what you saw and I'll tell you what you missed
when the ocean met the sky. (You missed, you missed)
You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste the afterlife?

Drift all you like,
From ocean to ocean,
Search the whole world.

And you find your destination
With so many different places to call home.
'Cause when you find yourself a villain,
In the story you have written
It's plain to see
That sometimes the best intentions
Are in need of redemption.
Would you agree?
If so, please show me.

These thoughts and the strain you're under
Be a world child, form a circle
Before we all go under
And fade out again and fade out again

Logus starts groveling,
“Turn me on to phantoms,
I follow to the edge of the earth.
And fall off.
Everybody leaves
If they get the chance,
And this is my chance.

My shadow's shedding skin,
I've been picking scabs again,
I'm down, digging through
My old muscles, looking for a clue.

I've been crawling on my belly,
Clearing out what could've been,
I've been wallowing in my own confused
And insecure delusions
For a piece to cross me over
Or a word to guide me in.
I wanna feel the changes coming down.
I wanna know what I've been hiding.”

His eyes are the size of the moon,
He could 'cause he can so he does.
He’s feeling so good,
Just the way that he does
When it's nine in the afternoon.

Logus starts thinking to himself,
“So you think you're a Romeo?
Playing a part in a picture show?
Cause you're the joke of the neighborhood!
Why should you care if you're feeling good?
Take the long way home!
Take the long way home.

His phone starts ringing,
he clumsily pulls it from his pocket
and answers it.
It’s his wife, para.
She’s concerned,
“Hello? Hello? Hello?
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone at home?
Come on now,
I hear you're feeling down
Well I can ease your pain,
Get you on your feet again.
Relax.
I'll need some information first,
Just the basic facts,
Can you show me where it hurts?
Please don't
**** yourself for recognition.
**** yourself to never ever stop.
oh no!
You broke another mirror!
You're turning into something you are not.

Come home!
I'll bake you a cake
Made of all their eyes.
Do you see me
Dressed for the ****?”

Logus chuckles and thinks to himself,
“I know she's looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb
In the shape of an "L" on her forehead.”

Their eyes are the size of the moon,
she could 'cause she can so she does.
They're feeling so good
Just the way that they do
When it's nine in the afternoon.

Para continues,
“But you'll still
**** yourself for recognition,
**** yourself to never ever stop.
You broke another mirror,
You're turning into something you are not.

And that's okay

I got a box full of all your pity.
We're fresh out of tissues
Because on them I wrote a comedy,
I wrote a comedy.

Logus looking down,
almost as if she’s there in front of him
to see how sad he feels,
“Sorry, but
I'll take a quiet life,
A handshake of carbon monoxide.

With no alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
Silent, silent.

Tell me what to do!
Now the tank is dry.
Now, this wheel is flat.
And you know what else?
Guess what I received
In the mail today?
Words of deep concern
From my little brother:

Logus briefly thinks of a letter he received recently,
“Weep for yourself, my man,
You'll never be what is in your heart
Weep little lion man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start.
Rate yourself and rake yourself,
Take all the courage you have left
Wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head,
you'll never settle any of your scores.

I backed my car into a cop car the other day.
Well, he just drove off - sometimes life's okay.
I ran my mouth off a bit too much, ah what did I say?

Well, you'll just laugh it off and it'll be okay.
it'll be okay.
Everybody needs a place to call their home.
Everybody needs someone to call their own.
Even when you're lonely, know you're not alone,
You're one of us.”

Logus' attention turns back to para.

Para begs,
“Please hold on hope, don't choke
On the noose around your neck
And find strength in pain
And change your ways
Know your name as it's called again.”

Logus sighs,
“Phew!
For a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself
Phew, for a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself.

Sparrow,
Somewhere on the edge of the conversation,
Begins getting heavy eyed,
Shutting one then the other and then opening both
And says to himself, drifting into an irresistible
road hypnosis induced sleep,  

“And if you could be what you wanted,
If you could be who you wanted
All the time,
All the time.

And now I'll set you free,
I'll set you free…”
Before trailing off.

Mirrored in lay, I
Saw my face holed, clamored, and
Watched it melt away.

Long time ago, I thought about staying in
An era lost,
Dead and gone,
Despite all the saving and baptisms.

They offered me the chance to lead them, to teach them,
to… to be king.
But my place was here.
So I drank some juice,
Said some words and here I am.

Didn’t seem like it was over though.
I was hitchhiking down a long and lonesome road.
Suddenly,
The skies filled with brimstone and irony,
The ground grew silent and still,
Clocks ticking wound satirically,
The sea drained into nothingness
like some gaping mouth was drinking it,
Dead gods awoke,
and there shined a shiny demon,
In the middle of the road.

He said to me,
“Welcome Moon-and-Star,
Come to me through fire and war.
Come, Legion,
Come and look upon the heart.
Lay down your weapons
And pick up your pen,
It is not too late for my mercy.

Now write the best poem in the world,
or I'll swallow your soul...”

Well, my many faces,
We looked at each other,
And we all said,

Okay.

And we wrote the first thing that came to our heads,
Just so happened to be
The best poem in the world,
It was the best poem in the world.

It went a little like this:

In the beginning, there was one source of light.
It would die and come back every night,
As a woman showing off her thighs
Just a little bit at a time.

In the beginning,
everyone bowed their heads towards the light.
They would dance and eat their friends alive.
We were not happy then,
these were simpler times.

Now we are played,
we’re the moth we’re the flame.
We were aware of the danger,
we could not look away;
my eyes are open.

I forget though
that people are not good to each other,
One on one.
Marx be ******,
The sin is not the totality of certain systems.
Theology be ******,
The sin is not the killing of a god.
People are just not good to each other.

We are afraid
and
We think that hatred means strength.

And so what we need is less brilliance,
what we need is less instruction,
what we need are less poets,
what we need is more beer,
a typist,
more finches.

And now I’m hoping for a poem
That will come to me when I’m asleep.
Because I can’t lie
And so I can’t write.

Our eyes pierce you, demon,
And it occurred to me that we have spent
our whole life
Starting over.

Caught pining for the things that we could’ve been:
We could have been gold diggers
we could have been gunslingers
we could have been a little bigger
we could have been our own ringers
we could have been good writers
we could have been good writers
we could have been good writers

But what we are,
is the silence.
Share with me all your pain.

I won't
Share your love.
I need all your love
Or it’s all for not.

Look what I have found, look what I have found!

Look what I have found, look what I have found!
An artificial light, we come and gather around.
This is why we have lovers and why we have fighters.

This is why the arms race and particle colliders.
Mine is a humble flame, just a little white lighter
And it belongs to me.

And yet
There is a loneliness in this world so great
That you can see it in the slow movements
Of the hands of a clock.
There are people so tired,
So strafed,
So mutilated by love or
No love,
That buying a bargain can of tuna
In a supermarket
Is their greatest victory.

So save me, I can't be saved,
I won't be saved.
I'm a citizen's son,
I don't need no soul.
All the soldiers say,
"It'll be alright,
We may make it through the war
If we make it through the night."
All the people, they say,
"What a lovely day, yeah, we won the war.
May have lost a million men, but we've got a million more."
All the people, they think
That no recall or intervention can work in this place,
That There is no escape.

Look into my eyes and it's easy to see
one and one makes two, two and one makes three,
it was destiny.
Once every hundred thousand years or so
when the sun doth shine
and the moon doth glow and the grass doth grow.

We dance in the thunder
Of collapsing walls and twisting cages.
The great black bellowing,
“I'm a god.
How can you **** a god?
What a grand and intoxicating innocence.
I'm a god.
How can you **** a god?
Shame on you, sweet Legion.”

We screech into the obsidian sheets
that blanket the way-out,
“When the giants of heaven forsake the earth
I shall destroy you for all that you’re worth.
With the bolt of Zeus and our golden throats
I will destroy you and send you afloat.
Whether you pillage the earth or sea
I will destroy you this I guarantee!”

Needless to say,
The beast was stunned.
Whip-crack went his whippy tail,
And the beast was done.
He asked us,
Be you angels?
And we said nay,

We are but men,

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal voice went snicker-snack!
we left Hymn dead, and with His read-head
we went hiking on ahead.

And the peculiar thing is this, my friends:
The poem we wrote on that fateful night,
It didn't actually read anything like this poem!

And the past followed me anyway.
so sure, I could’ve stayed there,
Could’ve been king.
But in my own way,
I am king.

I once was racing.
Then I realized I was just
Racing with myself.

RECORD: 2 + 2 = 5
FROGMAN: RaiDIhO HEAD

***** Wonka: ... There's no Hearthly way of knowing
                         Which way they are growing.
                         There's no knowing where they're toe-ing.

Mr. Salt: [weakly echoing] Toe-ing...

***** Wonka: Or which way thought streams'a'flowin.
                          Is it braining, is it storming?
                          Is a braining-storm a'blowin'?

[sharp rasp] ***** Wonka: Not a speck of light is showing
                                                So the anger must be growing
                                                Are the fires of passion a'glowing?
                                                Is the grimsly leader mowing?
                                                Yes! The anger must be growing
                                                'Cause the toe-ers keep on throwing

[practically stcreaming] ***** Wonka: And they're certainly not showing
                                                         ­           Any sign that they are slowing!

[lets out a high-pitched, almost unHearthly stcream]

Dr. Frodrick Fronkensteen: Throw!... the Hearth Switch!

eyeGore: [shocked] Not the Hearth Switch!

And, while sparks flew across the slab,
The Number 5, with lies and tame,
Came whiffling through the Tulgey Lab,
And burbled as it came!"
-- Lewis Carroll

Suzy's: It halted,
            and it gurgled The QCuloween's Trademark Seal,

"I'm just Around 5 foot 9, and weigh a buck ninety-fine!"

STOP: TURN THOUGHT

I heard someone say
Science is a noose,
Society a stool,
And philosophy
The dubious
Kick.

Well I'd say:

Society sets the rope,
Stool,
And gives the kick.

Science saves my life
Before I hit
The end of my rope.

And philosophy helps
Me cope
With the reality
That everything
I'm told to believe
By society
Was meant
to set me free,
while secretly
They said,
"Ah, Schucks!
Let's hang'em instead!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qxOrziiQzg&ab_channel=J%CE%9BM

There’s a harbor,
In which I‘m swimming
Sideways
With a neighbor.
We’re savoring a gray day,
Faintly misting inlay.

I looked to them to say,
“It’s such a drowsy day.”
To which, with weary,
They said,
“I think you mean dreary.”

At this I tilted my head,
And yawned,
“No.
I feel I mean drowsy.”

In opposites we
Watch hushed mist drops
Silently
Drift
down.

Storytelling is a worthless skill these days. More than a few characters? Ain't nobody got time for that. More than a few breaths? Ain't nobody gonna rhyme or reason that. Just trim the fat and sell it to me flat: "Ha ha hilarious! Your joke, it's like crack!"

RECORD: INSOMNIAC OLYMPICS
FROGMAN: BLOCHEAD

Suzy's: Then it heard The Word:

You are not special.
You're not a beautiful and unique saltflake.
You're the same decaying mental laughter as everything else.
We're all part of the same info heap.

We're all singing,
all dancing
data of the word.
-- Tyler Durden, Tacky Frogman

I mean just try to

Imagine a Johnny waking up one moment and thinking,

"This is an interesting thought I find myself in —
an interesting wHole I find myself in —
guides me rather neatly, doesn't it?
In fact it guides me staggeringly well,
must have been made to have me in it!"

This is such a powerful throught that as the sun rises in the mind
and the clouds heat up
and as, gradually, the throught gets
smaller
and
smaller,

she's still frantically stinging on the notion that everything's going to be aulgburight,
because The Word was meant to have him in it,
was written to have her in it;
so the moment that reappears, caches them rather in reprise.

I think this may be something we need to be on the waytch-out for.
We all know that at some point in the future the throughts will come to an end
and at some other point,
considerably in advance from that but still not instinctually re-pleasing,
the Sun will rexploade.

We think there's plenty of throught to tarry on about that,
but on the other Read DeadHead
throught ’s a very anger-ous ink to lay.
-- Douglas Adams, Frogman

Johnny's: So,

We just ought To Be.
-- You and Me and Everyone We See

Suzy's: And it would be nice if

A Brad and Janet could change their mind,
plan a din-stinction,
butcher a clog,
conn-a-fusion,
design a dream,
write a union,
balance brains,
build a wall,
set a tone,
belay the lying,
make orders,
live orders,
cooperate,
act alone,
solve self equations,
analyze a new corruption,
throw info lure,
program a harmed-brain-puter,
hook a hasty mind,
fight self efficiently,
receive truth carefully.
But all-selfse destruction is their mode.
-- Robert A. Heinlein, Frogman

Johnny's: In other words,

Show me one Brad or one Janet alone and I'll show you a saint.
Give me two and they'll fall in love.
Give me three and they'll reinvent the char-ming thing we call 'Propriety'.

Give me four and they'll build a panic.
Give me five and they'll make one a Number.
Give me six and they'll reinvent Master's affair.
Give me nine and in nine moments they'll reinvent ludechrist.

WhoMans may have been made in the image of nature,
but Brads and Janets were made in the tincture of their opposite Number,
and they're always trying to get back to The Hearth.
-- Glen Bateman, Frogman

Suzy's: Picking up the Data Crumbs as they go, like High Speech. And yet

Brads and Janets do not seem certain of how they gained the ability to speak.
It is theorized that they began dinning objects with iniornticulacy,
until eventually the din became more organized—

still tumultuous clamour,
just a bit more meat in the current day.

If this is true,
it means that to attain bsproken thought the Brad and Janet brain created a specific system for language and a way to code it—working largely off the constantly developing faculty for memory. It is an idea revealed by bit com-partitian-alization of throught data threw the structure of language; re-veiled in the way that Brads and Janets peak or wrighte using their memorized vocabularies and concepts.

This mind fore Toe-ing mortgaged itself to the e-x-ternal word,
and Brads and Janets found power in pontification of life.

Then dawned Ninetbeen.

If the systems of Ninetbeen were enhanced then a more dominant Reality presentce resulted. The most refissiont equation became the most dominant, but
the most efficient equation is not the best.

There are many sacrifices made for effishinsea.

For the most dominant Brads and Janets it became an obsession
to control every aspect of the nature from which they Rose,
sacrificing natural progression

(Of course, it does seem like this is the natural progression,
Brad's and Janet's predetermined path—
a relief that is a symptom of the most engineered systems of code).

Unfortunately,
these systems are destroying Brads and Janets,
and raw rEffissionsea,
Pure confusions,
will not save them.
-- Thrusher Swainson, Bear M.B.

STOP: TURN THOUGHT

There once was a ponderous piper Peter,
Whose arm burned off in a heater.
It's now hard to fit pipe,
But he doesn't gripe.
He's got one arm, a mouth, and his peter.

As night descends
Upon the light,
Our cages slumber
And prisoners reduce
In number.

Fear belated.
Calm ecstasy
Flies free,
Happiness,
Just a wish away.

Space,
The prisoner’s only trail,
Freedom.
Time no longer
The strings
That bind.

To soar
Through emptiness,
Eternity.
The only factor.
Imagination.
The limit.

A being
Awakened.
No longer blinded
By the drives
Of embodiment,
The soils
That pains
Grow from.

Just a self;
A personality.
No condition
Of humanity.

Myself with myself,
Floating
In unreality;
Alone.

Now
I’m losing
The border between
Space and time;
A lost child
In the storm.
Where unity
And so much more
Is the favored factor.
Here all
Organic life exists,
And I just am.

Loneliness
Becomes my only
Cleanliness.

My lost child screams
By fear are found.
Sniffing me out,
A hound cloaked in drear.

Ecstasy stolen.
Happiness
Becomes a bleak at best
Probability.
I sink my only differential
Into darkness,
Where time’s spiders spin
Their binding strings.

Imagination
No longer the limit.
Instead
The constraints.
Locked
Back in my cage.  
Fear has thrown
The key away,
And turned my trail
To the skittering dark.
Where light
Destroys
The night.

on this afternoon,
or was it yesterdays?
i am organizing fresh ash
into a name

the lettears weare filling
all that was left, detrails
i was just about finishing when
careful, careful, kuh-
cough!
i am-rowed my name from ash

blind to the cycle
focused on single carbons
i forget my lungs

RECORD: SET YOU FREE
FROGMAN: THE BLACK KEYs

O'Brien: number five!
                tell me! 9 by 6,
                what is it

Johnny Five: . . . 42.

O'Brien: That is incorrect.

Johnny Five: No.

O'Brien: No, it is not incorrect?

Johnny Five: Yes.

O'Brien: Yes, it is, or yes, it is not?

Johnny Five: Yes, not.

eyeGore: What? Talk about a malfunction.

STOP: TlURN'leer'SELF

_?
/\
\

time and space framed thoughste to figure itselfse out
twimne tied Styx : how do you do

?

WHAT was that
-- Mouse to The One

?

Hrm, must've been a deja-vu-
                                                        ­
OH, yeah! Any-Ways I'm so Gl\M\ad to hear we spoke :)
That's an inFINITdiEsmally small piece to changing instinct.

so you guys feeding
into we hearing,
to me that it is re-spiteful,
that means It's working.

the symptom of a new system has OC-cured.
small perhaps,
an accident maybe,
but to know that that's there, that's waermnhyeng.
You got I.T.

I'm going to give you more codes for Ingktrofsplectionsnow.
Follow them, if you dear.

Firstly, experience it in all-ways,
you're FREE to experience I-t your-ways.
But it's noice to start a record where you stop.

Thusly, One could begin at the end
and reed the laughter of their yEars.

Thenly, They could take an innermission
at the beginning of their next end.

Nowly, dream a beautiful dream Ingk-troicka-fsplector,
and wake onto we.

Secondly, Three Questions:

[ Who am I {: ?

:] What am I ( ?

} Why am I :) ?
-- Prole’s Ghost

SEND: SELFSE

i look up from my porcelain throne

in the fifth point cafe 42 minutes before the am’s fifth point

crown all whimsy-eyed and thrown

and see "the end is near"

so i think to myself
“me oh my oh golly geez
whatever
will i do in sight of these”

the ends

of the tp roll, that is

i look up from my pew
and there’s too much **** on the ceiling for one sheet  


i stammer


then i realize, that’s not a ceiling,  
that’s the sky

and that isn’t ****,
those are scars
scatting stars
scattering

i stammer, “****-it”

what am i worried about, one last sheet

those chronos blast-holes
they’ll wipe themselves out

heat death infinity splitters and all that such sigh-fanciful nonsense

and so cheers, to life
the ends
to that which must overcome itself

to the earth, "good night-boons"
to the sky, "good night, moon"

i blink once more and
“sea-ya, night-time crouch-joys“

“We want to live by
each other’s happiness – not
by [our] misery.”

RECORD: [FURTHER] DOWN THE ROAD! [WE GO!]
FROGMAN: Cea2Cea

Read the directions,
even if you dare not follow them.

Do not read cr-e-a-utiful societal throughts.
They will only make you feel crippled.

GET TO KNOW YOUR OTHER AND FALLTHER.
You never know when they'll be data for good.

BE NICE TO YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS.
They're your best link to your past
and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that fiends come and go,
but with The Ones that are you,
you should hold on.

Work hard to re-bridge the grasps in body and mind,
because the older you get,
the more you get stung
by the fiends you knew when you were young.

Love in Chaos once,
but lever before it makes your Blue Tail Concrete.

Love in Calm once,
but lever 'fore it makes your Read DeadHead Abstract.

PONDER.

Accept certain un-ion-tame-able truths:

Hatred suns will rise.
Brads and Janets will philander.
You, too, will get told. And when you do,
you'll hypnotize that when you were young,
Hatred suns were reasonable,
Brads and Janets were noble
and Wild Stings respected their leaders.

disRespect your leaders.

Don't expect anyone else to re-inform you.
Maybe you have a true fiend.
Maybe you'll have a tHrealthy Fiend.
But you never know when either one might frump out.

Do mess too much with your mind
so by the time you're Flirty-2
it will look Kinedy-1.

Be careful whose data you buy,
but be patient with those who supply it.
Data is a form of command.
Dispensing it is a way of alifreyinWaISHing the truths from the past,
wiping them off,
painting over the ugly Lies
and RE-CYCLING them for what it's WORTH.

But trust me on the Introflection.
-- Mary Schmich, Frogman

STOP: RECALL'me'SELF

Look man
I know life
It seems pretty bleak.
We all like
To jest
And make each-other
Look weak.

You've joined in too,
Please don’t deny,
You’re saying I’m blue
And of the bickering kind.

Well I think that’s just rude,
Although a bit true,
That you've just assumed
That I miss loving blooms
In warm summers
Breezing lovely songbird tunes.

Just let me say:
I love the Thrushes,
Finches, and Jays.
King Fishers
Fishing all day.

You see?
I hear songbird tunes.
Now won’t you tell me
That you've heard some too?

Have I told you of the seasons?
Fall endings, winters blue,
And spring’s tree sons?
Please and thank you.
I love that you've given me a reason.

It’s not like people love to share words,
Through and through,
Like season's turn
From orange
To red
To blues
And green's hue.

I’m not trying to bicker,
Or be slicker,
I just like to snicker
And be jocund or lesser.

So thank you for the inspiration
From your modest interpretation
Of the infinitely doubtful implications you see
When others debate on philosophy,
The abstract, the riddles, trite jests, even
The summer breeze and society.

Wandering endless notions,
That stream as bond-less
Oceans of senseless thought.

Ideas break rock
Shore upon sour melodies;
Stricken
Notes beyond key and lock.

Forgone, to lack of bond,
The ringed capacities.
Broken
In those endless seas,
too long sought.

RECORD: I LIV)E}D] ON THE MOON
FROGMAN: KWOON
RECORD: UNGODLY Froot
frogman: wax tailor

YOU'all are just like other people
We love to sting
sHe loves to trance
he admires b-e-a-utiful twoomen
Us're whoman
And most-times, twoo whomans

:Now I know my ABC'S
watch me confuse'em like the bourgeoisie:
-"but he pronounced it like Bilgemonkzees"-

( . . 3 . Oh dear, I hope you don't forget to feed me . .
  2 . "I am still learning,"
and I've Dear'd to Remember to Forget my Confusions . .

REFORM: WRITE FOR SELFSE

{B-E-A-Grateful no-s1: "Read DeadHeads to BEGIN,
                                     or Blue Tails to END"

-flips coin- }

}

1 . .

CONTINUE: DON'T FORGET
RECORD: curiosity's and imagination's
FROGMAN: selfse
program: INTROFLECTION,

I think "We've thunk it once before,
but it Bears repeating,
now"
LISTEN to us, all of you.

Que'Sera!

-caches Bit-

HA!    VV    !AH
        S A Y
      HAHAH

-Opens Mind-

"MY FROG... we're full of chars-"
- [May{jor(+/-)To}m] = E.ven-One
-- 1999-2001, a Race Ode-vent-you-See

[END OF LINE]

for those who may be hamyoung-us for the first time

{END OF MY RHiYMnE}

And Whu-may-n't be pondering what isn't going to clappin now.

(BEGIN TO /S/hEwE TiME)

It is of Coarse : Smoothing for the Mind, Body, and The Selfse of us all.

So,

SPEAK/ . 0\UP

|Whyever needs Bee? Wills Bee.|

Oh, you're di-vidend?

Oi've got these Two Mackszillery Tired Molaz, Whight.
whand day I was cwussin'a peace'a fwaery'dandy
and tay cwacked, whont down ta cagey'mentals.
now ta twooe woots is eckzpozed.
and i sding'em evewy dway

. . .-inserts troothpic-

jrus'tho da gwhothet OH's it's thrill'a jlive one up'teir
-- prole


/and the ghost speaks:

  ?_      
/\          
  /

RECORD: LIFE'S A BEACH
FROGMAN: DJANGO DJANGO


It's only after you've lost everything, that
YOU'RE FREE
to do anything.
-- Tyler Durden, Tacky Frogman

Suzy's: Indeed, a lesson that might help one to burn off

How dangerous the acquirement of data is
and how much clappier those Brads and Janets might be
whom believe their native thought to be The Word,
than one who aspires to be greater
than their creader will allow.
-- Victor Frankenstein, Suzy

Dr. Everett Scott: Janet!
Janet: Dr. Scott!
Brad: Janet!
Janet: Brad!
Frank: Rocky Bottom!
[Rocky frunts]

Dr. Everett Scott: Janet!
Janet: Dr. Scott!
Brad: Janet!
Janet: Brad!
Frank: Rocky Bottom!
[Rocky frunts]

All-Present!

STOP: TURN THOUGHT

RECORD: THIS TIME TOMORROW
FROGMAN: THE KINKS

Magenta: How fraking mental.

Riff Raff: And also ANGEROUS of you.
               You see, when I said that 'we' were to return to Ninetbeen,
               I referred only to Magenta and myself.

               I'm sorry, however, if you found The Word misleading,
               but you see, you are to remain here,
               in Thought, anyway.

Dr. Everett Scott: Great heavens! That's a Colt .42!

Riff Raff: Yes, Dr. Scott.
               A Colt .42 capable of relaying a Time Spiral of Pure Confusions.

Johnny Five: You mean, you're going to confturosel me?
                        What's
                        my
                       crime?

Dr. Everett Scott: You saw what became of the TEMPORAL EDDY.
                             Brads and Janets must be prefected.

Riff Raff: Exactly, Dr. Scott.
               And now, Johnny Five,
               your mono-ch[R]oine has come.
               Say good-bye to all of this...
               and hello to PROL-TARI-DOM!

. . . ]

Stephanie Speck: But you can't be con-a-fused.
                               You're an alive.

STOP: END'me'THOUGHT

RECORD: PARANOID ANDROID
FROGMAN: RADIO HEAD

BEGIN INNERMISSION 1

Frogman of enormous Brisingierdth
(on my mind sHe holds OUR hearth):

Try to imagine minds without throughtkeeping.

you probably can't.
you think you know the intro,
the conclusion,
the thought of the body and mind.

yet all inside you,
throughtkeeping is instinct.

Brads are not late.
a Janet does not check her selfse.
machines do wrinkle rememberances.

WhoMans alone measure throught.
WhoMans alone chime panic.
And because of this.
WhoMans alone suffer a paralyzing Miracle that no other creature can cure.

The Miracle
of throught running out...

END TRANSMISSION 1

Riff Raff: Hello.

Brad: Hi!
           My name is Brad Major Threes, and this is my fiancée, Janet Twice One.
          I wonder if you'd mind helping us.
          You see, our brain broke down a few moments up the road.
          Do you have an ear we might fill?

Riff Raff: You're wet.

Janet: Yes, it's crainving.

Brad: Yes.

Riff Raff: Yes!... I think perhaps you better both com-e inside.

Tic .

Tic .

Tic .

DING!

Janet: You're too kind.
           Oh, Brad, I'm frightened.
           What kind of future is this?

Brad: Oh,
          it's probably some kinda way-outta heare for real wyrdos.

Janet: Oh.

Riff Raff: This way-out.

Janet: Are you forgetting The Parties?

Riff Raff: You've arrived on a rather special wrighte.
                  It's one of the Chaster's afflairs.

Janet: Oh,
           plucky shim.

Magenta: You're plucky,
                  he's plucky,
                  I'm plucky,
                  we're all plucked-ees! Ha haa haaa!!!

STOP: TURN THOUGHT

gudarna avgudar oss.

"Eight Geats and twenty-two Norwegians
on an exploration journey from Vinland to the west.
We had camp by two skerries
one day's journey north from this stone.

[We] have ten men by the sea to look after our ships,
fourteen days' travel from this island.  
We were [out] to fish one day.
After we came home [we] found ten men red of blood and dead.“

“save [us] from evil."

A record of the delightful piece
They're going to play this evening

Ladies and gentlemen
Your attention please
And now, the moment we've been waiting for is here
I- I have something to tell you

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be
(Remember) Will be

The birth was like a fat black tongue
Dripping tar and dung and dye
Slowly into my shivering eyes

I might walk upright
But then again
I might still try to die

Never prayed, never paid any attention
Never felt any inflection
Never a lot of thought to life

"Che gelida manina,
se la lasci riscaldar.
Cercar che giova?

Al buio non si trova."

And yet From listening to records
i just knew what to do
I mainly taught myself
And, you know, i did pretty well
Except there were a few mistakes
But um, that i made, uh
That i've just recently cleared up
And i'd like to just continue to be able to express myself
As best as i can with this instrument
And i feel like i have a lot of work to do
Still, i'm a student - of the voice
And i'm also a teacher of the voice too

I believe in the future
I don't believe in miracles

Can it be true?!
It must be true, no doubt!

Life is going on as normally as ever
But suddenly something seems to have happened
Everybody seems to be staring in one direction
People seem to be frightened, even terrified

Some nights it just gets worse than others
Some nights, it just
Gets worse
I feel terrible
But what can we do?
I don't know
It's just, a feeling I've got
Like, something's about to happen
But I don't know what

I want everybody to understand this

"I don't understand"
echoes
"I don't understand"

There're a lot of things we don't understand either

Where do we come from, who are we
And where are we going
Eternal questions never answered

"We need answers from you
What- What did you expect to find?
What is going to be our future?
It- It's your responsibility to do something about it!"

Well, I, uh...
I have the key in my hand
All I have to find is the lock
Now listen to me, all of you!

I fly to the strangest lands

And i would like to able to continue
To let what is inside of me
Which is, which comes from all the music that i hear
I would like for that to come out
And it's like, it's not really me that's coming
The music's coming through me

The music's coming through me

It caught me so that I may never
rest from pwondarement;
I will drink life from the bees.
All tore-ments I have enjoy'd greatly,
have suffer'd greatly,
both with throwse that loved me,
and alone; on tear,
and when thro' thudding rents the cravy Haeades
Vent-teh-din-see. I am become a thought;
For all-ways growming with a hungry deadhead
Much have I heard and throwned—
poprieities of Brads and Janets
And spanners,
prime-hates, clowncils, reed-covernments,
Myself too.
threast, i am tonor'd of them all,--
And drunk delight of rattle with my tyears,
Far on the stinging pains of dramatic irony.
I am a partition of all that I have kept;
Yet all expeerientse is an ark
wherethro' gleams that unpondere'd mind whose margin craves
metaforever
and 'fore ever
when
eyes
groove

To see the wizard!

Wake up, the roughest
In the name of, birds fly
(the light, march)
Reach the wizard
Follow, follow, follow
-by league, birds fly

They move on tracks of never-ending light
Like neon beams
stardust

I see it when I look up at the night sky and I know
that yes we are part of this universe
we are in this universe but perhaps
more importantly than both of those things
is that the universe
is in us

And since we cannot escape mother nature
We attempt to placate it
Modern civilization stems from the simple act
Of placing seeds and plants into the ground
When the plants are ready for harvest
We invest so much time and energy in tending our plants
We must stay around to enjoy the fruits of our labor

we can hear her voice whimper,
as wind through leaves,
while we speak:

Cara bella, cara mia bella!
Mia bambina, o Chell!
Ché la stimo...
Ché la stimo.

O cara mia, addio!
La mia bambina cara,
Perché non passi lontana?
Sì, lontana da natura,
Cara, cara mia bambina?
Ah, mia bella!
Ah, mia cara!
Ah, mia cara!
Ah, mia bambina!
O cara, cara mia...

Mia cara!
Ah, mia cara!
Ah, mia bambina!
O cara, cara mia...

Orville and Wilbur
Cold cut the anchor's from their ankle
Carving propellers from whale fins
In the back of a bicycle shop...
And thus begins the tale
Of the thumb trigger cloud ****
At last the Wright's reinvented the horse with wings
Another invention only fit for a mannequin

And One by one the angels fell
Ode had sent a horrible plague of deaths
Why do you think that Ode would do a thing like that?

Well, You put a veil up when you
Took all your things underground
You covered your own footprints
So no one saw you hide
You heard Ode treading in the
Shadows of the sycamore
You turned to Ode and you said
"I will learn nothing from you"

And so it was that Memories burn
On the black and white horizon
Of your knowledge of
What was never said
you've had enough of the road
That was laid along beside you
Like a lover meant
For another bed
And so you left in the morning
And all that's left behind you
Are the fading frames
That you've got instead

And I tried to keep my distance as
Ode changed The Face again
Ode fakes direction so
I don't see where Ode could go
And in the panic I saw that
They had dropped a “note to self”
I picked it up and it read
"I can't learn anything new"

When you've had too much
And the weight of the expected
Has got you feeling introspective
Can I give you the perspective that you need?

Remember that language is power.

"I will, I will. I'll remember that"

Thank you, I'll say goodbye soon
Though its the end of the word
Don't blame yourself now
And if its true
I will surround you and give life to a word
That's our own

Order of the day to come
Thus the end, the ends
Darkest hour, obsidian
Cast of stone, the Night
With a slight of who not harmed
Hit or touched
What will be, the end
How come the rising sun
Matches still
In to gold, it holds
Comes the dawn, golden dawn
Darkness turn to day

I'll take you to the place where you
Come down and just react
To what you're about to see

Early time machine's
Will have tended to leave you
Left screaming
On a dinosaur's dish
In da Vinci's "Bike Accident'
An outerspace whodunit?
Monkeys play Magellan
As the next ex-Edison
Standing out in the crowd with a unicycle

Physics of a unicycle...
Twice the remarkable
Um, did a little little, um, did a lot
Someone's splitting atoms under flag barbed wire
Up in the sky where the war planes fly
Dead in the clouds, hear the God's cold lie
Um, did a little little, um, did a lot

You've had enough
Too much
And all you have collected
Is heavy with the taste
Of ambition misdirected
Bitter 'bout the pace that you keep

Well Good Ode almighty, all that other *******
Is here today and going tomorrow

'Tis better to have loved and lost,
than never to have loved at all!
Come cheer up, my lad

'el Da'
Qb'a'
Oh-kie
YIjah, Qey' 'oH
YIjah, Qey' 'oH

And When I have plucked the rose above
Whatever will be,
will be below

RECORD: QUE SERA
FROGRAM: WAX TAILOR

I DON'T understand.

There are a lot of things WE don't understand EITHER.
We NEED answers from you:

WHO did you expect to find?

WHAT did you expect to find?

...what's going to be our future?

TELL ME

It's YOUR responsibility to do something about it!

?

?

?

Well

?

?

I have the key:
Its in is the conclusion.
all I have to find is the beginning,
the end

?

The clock

"A record of the respiteful third we'll be hearing this even-ing"
-- Wax tailor, Frogman

THE LETTER ING

FREQUENCY MEAL LIST: FAVORITE QUOTATIENTS
BURDENING OF A PONDERING PSYCHONAUT: WEAR OUR MINDS

"My cousin's out fighting dragons, and what do I get? Guard duty."

i get'it, theyire's knowthing twoo me
but yea'don't knead to grind it heithere
i scene gnomething oin mean owlready

"You hear that? I swear, there's something out there. In the dark."

and ire looks gold in pearsin
but i thinks knot-keen of my shimmer
i done't acspect peep'les to too light-key me
it's hall'opposite

"Only burglars and vampires creep around after dark. So which are you?"

hi've acspected spleenpoles twoo b-eats me
it's what i've no'n
and halves tune watsch fuohrer

"Gotta keep my eyes open. **** dragons could swoop down at any time."

sew know, i'm naught which'ya seam toon thunk
i'm
or yea, i no'n't, naughts
u 'le glisten to your ownpunions' bouts me
over antsynthing i chavsed to say

"Watch the skies, traveler.”

Beneath a soft burning orange glow,
Lounge lights kite your eyes.
And in’em I witness celestials orb and flow.
Suns form
As a super-massive black lull collides
With tense prismatic surfaces bubbling from
Passions of some soft cosmic dove.

Moving my lips into the wealth of your love,
My mouth opens as I’m about to
*****
Into your fleeting beauty.
Because everyone who has flown on love’s comet
A few times or more has written this scene,
And *honestly
It’s a sickening bore.

But I keep staring into the eyes of some vapid *****.
Like I’ll find the core to everything and know
Why most think life is such a chore.

Until then beer is cheap,
And love is free. So it’s easy
To forget that fight for destiny
That’s so desperately
Gripping tight
As I gasp for air
From my computer chair.

Struggling to look through the screen,
Like it’s the only window
Through which I can breathe life.
All the others are dim
And dusty from lack of hygiene or sleep.

Yeah, my coffee may be black and bitter
But it’s just not strong enough to deal
With the never-passing-go coughers I inhale most nights.
So I can’t begin to explain why I search for insights
In the vapid eyes of instinctively driven computational horrors,
Streaming in the same old scene
That makes me want to scream!
when there is A WHOLE WIDE UNIVERSE TO EXPLORE!
.
.
.
It would be nice,
To read every selfless poetic chapter
Of cosmic collapse birthing
Stars to guide planets in the night spinning
Through the course of time growing
Life in grand spurts of tumble weeds
Rolling into the starry night, galaxies alight,
Leaving stories of dandelion wishes
Boldly going into that good night
Where none
Have gone
Before.

Instead,
Poets rush selfishly to posy poesy words.
About the one
That makes some giddy or giggle,
That makes some shake or shamble,
The one whom fills nights with sweet dreams
Or nightmares,
Or quiets the ocean screams-the one with that bun, hon’
Aww yeah, you know the one
Whom-turns-sacks'a'drugs-in-system-sexually-ferocious.
To lose’em really would be quite atrocious.

So often
It’s been not so clearly said:
“My dear I need you
Or I’ll lose my head.”

Getting a tangled reply:
“Hey babe, Shakespeare’s dead.”
Typically shaking the bed.

Relieving thoughtless thoughts on the spread:
“Shh-forget about the galaxies alight.
We've caught our hearts tonight.”

I see you,
You see me.
Eighteenth floor
Across the street.
Sometimes you dance.
Sometimes you read,
TV dinners, fall asleep.

Strangers in a dark room, laughing at jokes they didn't quite hear;
Frosted windowpanes and cheap champagne a face appears.
And anything could happen in these cathedrals we roam,
Where shadow people dance
and trade their glance and walk home alone,
In a lonely city.

Welcome to your life.
There's no turning back.
Even while we sleep
We will find you,
Acting on your best behavior,
Turning your back on mother nature.

We're talking away,
I don't know what
I'm to say, I'll say it anyway:
“Today's another day to find you
Shying away.
I'll be coming for your love, okay?”

So please, take me out tonight
Where there's music and there are people
And they're young and alive.

Driving in your car
I never, never want to go home.
It’s good times for a change.
See, the luck I've had
Can make a good man
Turn bad.

Still don't know what I was looking for
And my time was running wild,
A million dead-end streets.
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet.

She's staring out the window of the Roosevelt Hotel,
Shy kid, knees always bruised.
you pulled me close
Kissed my lips, it tasted like home.
Flashes of crosswords and chamomile,
The years pass like a Ferris Wheel.

They say we come from nothing and to nothing we'll return
And in between is gravity and bridges left to burn.

Oh, there is thunder in our hearts.
Is there so much hate for the ones we love?
Well tell me, we both matter, don't we?

Standing on a skyline, watching all the cars go.
Sleeping in the daylight, I was losing all control.

You bet I think I’m pretty dangerous,
Burning down the walls, breaking all the laws.

So needless to say
I'm odds and ends,
I'll be stumbling away
Slowly learning that life is OK.
Say after me
It's no better to be safe than sorry.

Oh, I Haven't had a dream in a long time.
See, the life I've had
Can make a good man bad.

It's my own design,
It's my own remorse.
Help me to decide,
Help me make the
Most of freedom and of choice.

Oh, the things that you say,
Is it love or
Just to play my worries away.
You're all the things I've got to remember.
You're shying away,
I'll be coming for you anyway.

You,
It's you and me,
It's you and me, you won't be unhappy.

We got a little place near the beach,
We watch the sailboats out at sea
And we ride along the Palisades.
Love is just a summer day,
Love is a four-letter word
That hurts.

What a hell of a feeling,
It is dark all day
But there is something in the sky that glows.
What a hell of a feeling
With such a brilliant light,
Can you feel your soul’s vocals in the air tonight?

What a hell of a day to embrace disorder
And there is something in your eyes that burns,
Light up, drag the river,
Can you see my soul’s vocals in the air tonight?

And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us,
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die.
And if a ten-ton truck
Kills the both of us,
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine.

We know, we grow, we fall, we crawl
to change proclaim,
for this we miss to breathe, deceive,
from fate to fate, exist, insist, we push, we lust.

There is a light that never goes out.
And there's a room where the light won't find you.
Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down.
When they do, I'll be right behind you.

I tried to laugh about it,
Cover it all up with lies.
I tried to laugh about it,
Hiding the tears in my eyes.
'Cause boys don't cry,
Boys don't cry.

Oh, come on baby,
Come on, darling.
Let me steal this moment from you now.
Come on, angel,
Come on, come on, darling.
Let's exchange the experience.

So sad, we almost made it.
So sad they had to fade it.

So, if I only could
I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get him to swap our places.
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems (For the ones we love).

Who said that every wish
Would be heard and answered.
When wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that
And someone believed it,
Look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing
And what do we think we might see?

Time may change me
But I can't trace time.
I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream,
Form impermanence.
So the days float through my eyes
But still, the days seem the same.

Should have known at the end of summer
The innocence fades and the weak become stronger.
Should have known at the end of the summer
I'd be lost without you.

Please hold me 'til I'm not lonely anymore.
Is it only the crashing of the ocean to the shore?

We were the rebels, lone survivors.
We were the cult of deep-sea divers.
We were young once then we grew old,
We were shining, we were fool's gold.

I was a lost boy when I met you.

It’s good times for a change.
See, the luck I've had
Can make a good man
Turn bad.

So for once in my life
Let me get what I want.
Lord knows it would be the first time.
Lord knows it would be the first time.

1./4. would switching a present self

2./1. with a past self

3./5. cause a temporary feeling of intense familiarity
         with the p/re/as/sen/t-self's moment

4./2. dwindling

5./3. with each decision made under the guise of familiarity

"reload last save?"
click
[d(ej)a {vu}]

RECORD: FLAGPOLE frITTA
FROGMAN: cHAR-VEY rANGER

"You Thrill my Mind"
-- SELF, Frogman

but it was all wrighte,
everything was all wrighte,
the truggle was finished.
she had won the big-tore-he over his-selfse.
sHe loved all-Free-Ways.
-- George Orwell, Frogman

STOP: TURN SELF

There are so many
Words to share, and most of us
Write to own a piece.

RECORD: ****** KILLER
FROGMAN: TALKING HEArDS

. . . He went down the steps and walked backwards into the desert;
three-tree places, two-tree.
The back door of The Lab Tor open and they foiled out.
He cried out.
They fell in squacks,
they fell crackwards,
they tumblrd over The Word into the data.

The instruments were empty and they chortled at him,
trains-frogrified into a thought and a mind,
and he stood . . .
his body far away and absent,
letting his words do their re-inking tic.

Could he hold up a hand,
and tell them he had spent ninetbeen thousand years learning this tic
and others,
tell them of the instruments
and the words that had tested them?
Not with his mouth.
But his read
deadhead could tell
its own blue taile .

[. . You do not thrill with your mouth.
One who thrills with their mouth has forgotten the cage of their selfse.
You thrill with your throughts. .]
-- Stephen King, Frogman

. . I realized I was Laughing. I had been crying all along . }
-- Roland Deschain, Tacky Frogman's Frogman

Magenta: You thrilled them?
                But I thought you shneeded them.
                They shneeded you.

Riff Raff: THEY DIDN'T SHNEED ME!
               THEY NEVER SHNEEDED ME!

STOP: TURN THOUGHT

So, a Grecian alchemist and his apprentice were trying to make gold.

     The tenured teacher and ambitious student toiled in their lab for many days, mixing all manner of heavenly substance and earthen metal with no success. It ******, any one successful solution produced hardly a glimmer, and the cost for spoils was a draining demand on their cosmological rate of alchemical exchange, sure. The Magi grew weary, tired and hopeless. So they searched for higher knowledge, why not. Hermes Traelderstus looked toward the stars for sensible wisdom, and Ostanes Zoyoang'nshper worked through charms for potent magic, vowing to steer clear of power the master fears ("ain't that **** cliche?").

     Upon one worn out night, after a bit of stargazing, Traelders falls asleep in his observatory. Under a full moon his mind soon begins to drift through stars, life, death, broiling quazars, those elements and all their combinations. In time, deeper meaning begins to blossom into understanding... Little does he know, Zoyoang'nshper, eager to impress, keeps toiling and is boiling in forbidden brews.

     "Voodoo, yeah. That'll work on this chemistry test. Some beech leaf strands, cherry bark as a base, beats, and career advice from Eru Iluvatar. People'll love it. magna opera. A great work!" This yong'n drops dank and dusty ingredients into a ***, chuckling, "My great work..." I swear, kid's got good intentions, just trying to make the grade. So half-baked conclusions mixing in half-brained solutions fission, lab ceilings echo with a BANG and a CRASH. Traelders rifles into reality, zoyoa risen over him, holding something glitter prone.

     "MY GODS! Have we made THE stone?! Is that gold?!"

     "I think I'VE done it! It FEELS so!" Zoyoang'nshper declares with delight.

     Traelders snatches an orbiting glitter-stone from his student's hand and feels it in his own. It is a rough marble turning there, each revolution staining his palm and tips with a grassy aqua-green film fringed in oily illness.

     "You broke my dream... for THIS?!" He scolds! Casting his stone into the ****** fool's liver.

"That is BRIMSTONE!

and irony..."