which tangled loom made me me
why was my pattern never repeated
what knitted the fabric of my ideology
who cut my strings and left me
wafting through the weave

The futures so bright
It casts now into shadow
The price to be paid
For a better tomorrow
In these rarefied times
We have to live shallow
For what the past had
And the next expect
Leaves the present peasant fallow

why would you greet a man
with anything but kind words
when his only other option
is to explode to be heard
if he wants your help, give it
if he doesnt the choice is his
dont presume that because he has what you want
he wants what you give
be honest with yourself
about your all encompassing greed
you dont want to help who needs help
you want to help yourself to what you need
if he has nothing worth taking
then he can at least be the seed
of the burgeoning budget
for your military deceit

where do you think your pink hair
and piercings fit
into fashions plagiaristic style
or lack of it
tattoos so loud and bountiful
you make the yakuza look ****
out is the new in
alt is so alt
everybodies it

whats iraq got that syria hasnt?
whats the difference between them
and afghanistan?
whos deciding one deserves help
and the other doesnt?
how much more ******* carnage must we see
before well lend a hand?
or are you waiting til debating votes and ratings
lets you know which path your taking
meanwhile the genocidal wrath is unabating
like another bosnia

when you lose the illusion
when the light shines through
when your dreams are shattered
all that is left to accrue
is all that matters
even when its cruel
brutal truth though painful
is no less true

We'll find our own arrow of time
Live in our bubble
Of superdense time/space
Accelerating our mass
Until we collapse
In on ourselves
Form a new universe
Where we make our own rules
In physical superposition