I love everything
La la la
I’m the happiest guy in the world

Laying on the ground,
I certainly don’t march
And the drummer is usually on vacation
But he beats it now and again
And then…
I get ready and very slowly
I roll toward something
To the beat

They are all much normaler than me
Their time is spent responsiblefully
While I peek into the swirl and slide and around the edge
Unpressing the brakes crying “oui”
And I aim to love those who knows what they knows
With total certainty
But they are all much normaller than me.

I forgot again
It seemed like you heard me
So I talked for a long time
Then you said, "Wait what?"
But something about my words
Makes them float right past you
Fly paper without glue
Yay my flies are free

I'm crazy and stupid
I should never talk
Chop it off and choke me
With my own stupid ****

Flowing like ***
Or plopping like ****
Time isn’t hung up on
His relationship with it

Stuff does stuff
While time does time.
Tries so hard to love and rhyme
But he doesn’t understand time

If there is a point to the grand design,
He is resigned to miss it.
Time time time time time time time,
Eat sleep **** **** **** it.

First is the self
In the water
The setting is not still
Yet
It almost makes sense
Rolled past plants and mud
Faster
Rushed with the sand
Faster
Crushed against the rocks
And finally drowned

If I can turn 25
Then 50 is possible
That leads to 100
And surely this me will be gone by then
Inevitable

Not enough
To understand
Time

Trying to understand a river
Being crushed by it
Against all the things
Plants, rocks, sand, mud
Rushed by it
It almost makes sense at first,
Then faster and faster
And finally
Drowned

Sometimes your friends
Get it all wrong
That's why I wrote this song
About what they said
They can't tell ****
I promise you,
I'm a shinola head

She said she might like to stay.
Then I said that might be ok.
And that was it.
Our stupid story had begun.

A way
An approach
One might choose
With unique advantages
And unique faults.
Not better
Might be worse
But I doubt it.
Leaving space
In the noisy top
For those top dogs
To fight it out.
Less blame
Less regrets
Less more
More less.

I had a few friends who lived
Around me
They sent out a search party
Which found me
After noticing I’d been gone for so long

People remember
People forget
Who could predict
What will happen

Old boots
Sparkly ripped ***** hose
Pale, she looks cold
Her eyes look faded
Little girl makeup
Bold and sloppy
Over wrinkles and moles
Grey hair for an inch
Then black die to shoulder length
Then bleach blond for a couple shaggy inches
She croaks wisdom
The exact sound of her voice is everything
All of it becomes perfect
The words become meaningful
And She
Shapes into It
It
Everything perfect
God
Love
Whatever

Here he comes
Red the ***
Rambler, rigmaroller
Jesus’s son
Signing autographs
On pantyhose
Contemplating “never”
“Nothing matters
More than ever.”

More fun hiding I’m the AntiChrist
Than hiding I ****

Not none
Not all

Lemniscate
Is the proper name
Of the sideways
Eight

They soaked my microbes
In the charged field
That those meat beings
Make up stories about.

When the stories agree,
They all start to perceive
The particle soup
In a similar way
And they call their
Way of perceiving
The partical bath:
Reality

It's pretty overwhelming
And it seems
Almost real

Except
They have this one
Unrealistic thing
Called time.

I go along with it all
But I'm pretty sure
I'm being farmed
Or I'm an agent of some force
That I'm designed
Not to notice
Or comprehend

I'm only allowed to
Perceive stuff
Once the farmers decide
It's useful
In the perpetuation
Of whatever
We're supposed to perceive
In this charged field
I'm led to
Believe is
Real

That which is
That which is not
Go through entropy
Over time
And
More of that which is
Joins that which is not
More of what is not becomes what is
And
Black and White
Give up

Waiting
For an explosion
Or a phone call
Expecting doom again
Expectations are even worse than perceptions
Regarding being undependable
And
Easy to fall for <that which seems but is not>

Falling apart in tune with time
Time doesn't mind
If you feel that it's real or not

Stuff does stuff while doing time.
Time keeps timing.
She loves you time.

Time doesn't care about love or rhyme
But he shouldn't speak about time

If something's the point of the grand design,
He was resigned to miss it.

Time time time time time time time
**** **** **** ****
**** it.

Some kind of out-of-tune
Conversation stopper
Wired backwards

Rolling with shades closed

I saw the best bodies of my generation
Go from boom to bust
Blame the passage of time
And Cheetos dust

Brujo Alligatore says
To be mortal is a blessing, of course.
We say: To live!
<drink from bowl>

Brujo Alligatore says
To be mortal is a curse.
We say: To die!
<And drink>

Brujo Alligatore says
To be aware of death is to be sad.
We say: To know!
<And drink>

Brujo Alligatore has light coming from his mouth and eyes that says
You may *****, you will die, but not tonight.

To be mortal is a blessing, of course.
To live!
To be mortal is to be cursed.
To die!
To be aware of death is to be sad.
To know!

Fixate on beauty
You negative *****

The custodian association convenes for the final time
The final time
They started on Earth
A fearful bunch
Frightened into competence
Clinging together
To clean and maintain the systems
First of the Earth, then of the other planets, then of the Sun, then of the Galaxies
And now, they must realize their most important purpose
(As everything they ever did was the most important)
These beings made of the material of the Universe
These beings emotionally reflecting the concern of the Universe
The One

Now it is happening
The outer edges of the One have drifted so far
Entropy has gone so far.
The beings ready the Gravity Loop sequence

All the information of this epoch
Lies in the Akashic record
Time for the material to be recollected
Reshuffled

The Custodians embrace, sing,
And they throw the switch.
Time for
Absolute Gravity
Triggering a Big Bang

The cycle runs healthy

Wimpy baby wimpy baby
Shove it up your ****!

Forgive me if dread is contagious.
I just meant to mention how deep
This grim lonely wrestling with the final rest
Keeps me from my living sleep

It's natural to fixate upon this
Or else I caught it from Pink Floyd
At a tender age, their lyrics about time and death
Obsessed me with the inevitable void

If everybody runs around screaming and freaking out, it will be devastating.
May none of us be forced to endure that.
Mankind should practice
Do drills.
How to behave for a pleasant apocalyptic experience
Embrace and sing
A joyful song of comfort
Practice the song
To soothe all the plants and animals
As our world
Becomes the floating smashed world museum

Watching a clock doesn't stop it
A watched *** does boil.

Passage of time is inevitable.

Everything else seems fishy.

Seems
Seems
Seems
Nothing gets through here
But a bunch of seems

Passage of time is inevitable.

The guy
Always on the lookout for evidence.
Death
Time
What's it about?
Nobody knows
And the guy knows "You're lucky" is true
But what the **** is going on?
I don't want to rest in peace.
I want to live in strength.
******!!!
A fool
Categorizing life in my own dumb irrelevant categories.
Like a fool.
But I LOVE it all.
Be grateful alive.
Feel sensations, I get all that.
But I must note this terror and dread of death
Such a part of my experience.

Awake
Dreading death

Scared
Rumble shake
It's coming
Crash
Get ready
Krakowm
No point holding on now
If you have slaves, free them
Guhguhshugguhboooom
All to worry now is how it will appear
In the blown apart floating museum

I categorize one type of experiences as futility loops
Like Jumped-through hoops and Unflown coops
Another type, I associate with Red the ***
Like I felt you *** and *Just use your thumb

I see clearly what's eventually coming
And I know deep inside it's not cute.
But I laugh instead of fighting it lately
Cause the point of protesting is moot.

Getting rich selling junk food to poor folk
Or poor cleaning rich people's ****,
Your dreams get in tune while you're sleeping at night
To the beat of the futility loop.

Fool!
(that's me)
Worship the futility loop!
It's my way!

Ok.
Who am I to doubt?

Wash dishes clean laundry
Wipe **** cook soup
Welcome to the deep futility loop
Worship doomed celestial bodies
Build a nest or fly the coop
Just wriggle in tune to the futility loop

Just like everything worth remembering happens
When nobody is recording,
All the conversations worth time and effort
Are the ones we are aborting.

They tell me my eternal soul
Will wear special, fancy shoes.
But that ain't enough to calm me down
From the <I don't ever wanna die> blues

Constantly with the old trick,
Look up--see the ceiling is really the floor!

Comfortable with the
Rug Pullers Rag
Enough so that
The feet ask the eyes
To check walls and ceilings for nails
Able to lose or gain any floor

Staying as loose,
As the ceilings, floors and walls may fall.
Feet that leave or land
On any surface.

I'm too dumb to focus
But I pick things up.
Science guys say entropy
Is going on.
Time is the unwinding
Of entropy.
Makes sense to me
In that way that it makes sense that
Everything we know is false.
So we're just fingers and mouths
With a brain and muscles and teeth
For a reason.

If earth should be protected,
We are a scourge.
If earth is a mother,
We are a scourge.
We think we're caretakers
But we are a scourge.

Hu-Man, agent of Entropy. (<-- that thing to the left, try not to hate; it's kinda like a middle eight)

Maybe earth is something else
Or else we are a scourge.

I never impressed a boss
I never built a 401k
A lease is too formal an arrangement for me.
These Guys know how they're going to make their
Last payment on their casket already.
But they don't worry about the fate of all life?
I do.
I sit around
Not paying rent,
Worrying about how humans are ******* it all up.
But I don't figure out ****.
We're ******.

Every day-
Same thing,
Same thing,
Same thing
Nobody expects it
And
BOOOM

If we do it,
If we bake it,
**** everything with our lifestyle,
Maybe we can at least leave
An indestructible obelisk.
Explain how we invented
This idea of profit.
Explain how it wasn't worth it,
We just got obsessed.
But put a joke at the end of the obelisk,
Leave'em laughing.
That's the Earth way.

Tickle
Touch where it tickles.
Put your tickler where it tickles.
You're supposed to.

Irresponsible he was
Though his kids had comfy beds and shoes.
It's just he stayed ******
Lest succumb to the death culture blues.