Books are written by story tellers
Fact is not always true
Interpretation manipulation
It's all left down to you
Books are written by evil
Books are written by good
why after reading
The reader is not understood.
Propaganda messages
Mixing half truths with lies
Problem with humans
We need some where to hide

Getting past your sell by date
Hinges creaking,
can't open the gate.
That's life.
Can't remember what you've  just done
Cup a tea lately,
not taste of fun.
That's life.
Sitting in gods waiting room
Accepting age with impending doom
That's life.
Sitting in your comfy chair
Feeling more dead than alive
Ooh dear you silly old ***
You've just reached 95.
That's a life.
no more aged isms
No more blood
in the heart
That's it my sweeties
I'm just about to ****.
That's life.
The end.

Anybody out there ?
Ooh,it's still just me
Trying to communicate
while wanting to flee.
chemicals and synapses
forming a disastrous flaw
Internal wrangling
This curtain will not draw.
i express myself to an empty space
i look in the mirror
But I don't see my face
I'm cursed to debate,everything alone
a dog with no friendship
And a meatless bone.
24 hours,another passing day
A playground without children
empty and grey
Swings  and roundabouts
Are  still going to war
if I was a believer would I still
Have this flaw.

Sitting on the Evil wall
Debating with myself
Shall I give good a call.
Communication a wipeout,
A septic flaw,
How can one love?
When you can't be sure.
I sit on the wall
With a wide arsed grin
Demons with Sabres  start
to be riotous within,
all I have to do is to make the call
Yet its another wipeout

Chimes of the bell
Never to return
You went to your death
My heart will burn
Lost without you
I will have to pray
That we will rejoin
On a sweet summer day

When I was a child
I had many a thought
Never listen to my father
He was wrongly taught.
His values were wrong
Was society to blame
He hated me because I
Played a different game.
Rules are rules an inflexible being
Couldn't see passed his nose
To grasp what I was seeing.
The gate was shut
he had been through hell
His mental health effected me as well
He took his shallowness to the grave
I never got to know my father
His name was Dave .

Twenty four hour news
It's a continual ****
***** me up
I'm wallowing in it
Killings, disasters
Everything's a con
It's making me feel good
I'm mentally wrong
I like ***** washing
I have thee ability to clean,
No horrible news
Then that would be obscene.
The world is square
spinning around on a smear
I adhere to propaganda
It's so  exciting to fear
I turn on television to get my thrill
Anticipating nervously for another ****
A sunken ship a raging fire
Give me,give me I thrive on a liar.
I am still having a twenty four hour ****
It doesn't matter I'm wallowing in it