Wo if I could find
Another name for this beast

I know you all to well
Yet you're still unclear

When I see your face
A mask
but your identity clear

Shrouded by a name and a masked face
And years of brain beating
You're the every human fear
You're the alchemists disgrace
Morals, judgement erased

You won't be anything but the beast

Yet its founded a lie
Over, years
Drown youth
Lined face

The millenium's fate
The  urge to decisigingrate
And feel every ring of pain

Capitalists wealth is of soothing
Release

But the new American wants to feel the pain

They want to suffer, and scrape
At the walls of white paint
Hiding the clear writing

The devil's in your suitcase

And can't save

A fool from his hit

from a pig from his ****

And so I bask in self destruction

Ivory tower suicide

What what the wicked lie?
To save me from my curious sense of being

The clock leaps another beat
A day past
The Reaper
Smoked from a pipe

The smoke fogs the granite
Lights the lights
In the City
4 million sacrificed to the western gods
A twisted metal pyramid
Directs the slave souls
Over the hills
And to the land of idols

And in back alleys
***** faced, lost children
bobb their heads
With a terrifying sense
Of awed approval
Accepting
Of their suffering
Human depravity
Submission to a dark force
Scraping the last meat off
civilization's bare bones

And a vision of myself, not myself
A self ago, a self I left
A self confined in motels
And rental rooms

I see him laugh
I see him dance
I see him in gutters
With alley tramps
Drinking brown sludge
From a veil only labeled
with a skeleton face
Toxic succinist
Romance
Man's
Wicked spawn

Chemistry transforms the intelligent
Into Gods

And Wo if their's another name for their evil spawn

In a bleach stricken alley
I'm filled with that devils spawn

Hark the beat angels
And breathe into me
The gospel of the
Weary seeker borefore I
Twisted tongues
Weak heart
Head full of speed
The finger's strike conductively
The typewriter
Scrolls a vivid conscious soul
Cemented in time
The weary prophets
Lost
The devine persona
Found in some
That make us all believe again

To live is evil
Destruction is creation
Now is the choice of which life
To live

Why don't we pray
Until we're sick

Do we not love another
Until death

Why have I not sent a thought or found that which is bigger than me?

I smoke, cough, drink poison
I stay up all night
I bleed, I cry I love
Repeat
And still find it easy
To sleep

Why is it this amnesia?
Why am I fated to pretend?
Year after year
To find yourself alone, purpose unclear
Needs become beyond selfish
And wrecklessly bored
Without a healthy tinge of fear.

No son's head was clear
For Sunday mornings
We all found the time
When the towers fell

A new day comes, horizon clear
The poker master calls my hand
Another year, another wrinkle,
becoming wiser yet it feels like complacency

I guess I'm trying to say sorry
And thanks for the love I feel
And everything that I know is real

Nobody prays
Until self tragedy, all alone
Years of survival, carnal absorbtion
Will then just be like waking from a dream
And a voice unleashed cries " you left me"
"you forsake me to this suffering"
Or was it god, unfortunately?

So today I pray
God, universe?

Thankyou for giving me life, undeserving
Help me not hurt me

I'm tired of meeting god, unfortunately

The river runs it runs with greed
The fast cash of the lucky
Makes it's way to sea

And poison floats with this poison greed
The will of millions, cry out silently

Because they have no idea
about this poison greed
Nurotoxicity
Poisoning our cities

The doctor tells the single mother
To eat an apple everyday
Which only supplement her daily
Methlyphenidate
Neurotoxicity

And baby was born just few pounds light
The tired mother relieved
Baby swaddled in a sheet
Of polybrominate
Neurotoxicty

But all ends were it began
The conspirers of greed
Don't have to loose a thing
The toxic poisonous sludge doesn't run through their garden greens
Somethings
Fish-y
Or is it all the mercury?

East of the railroad tracks
The man smoking crack
Behind a tree
Now breathing PCB's
From car exhaust and factory
Poor ****** breathes
Neuroxicity

And the lucky on lookers equipped to
Notice such a thing or anything
Watch in disbelief
They should all find relief, the poison is fair
It flows through everybody, everywhere

For nothing makes the people sing
Like a mix ethanol and manganese
Neurotoxicty

Spin round and round and sing
This is called brainwashing
Drink your mix of ethanol and manganese
Watch your team throw the polyethylene
Trickle down, trickle
Your loosing the cells right from your brain
While a doctor writes you a prescription to go insane

After years of manganese and PCB's
Jimmy B is lost in the sea of toxins
But mom knows best
He's a hyper brat
Takes him to the doctor to get him
Correct
Doctor gives Jimmy a prescription
The devil's speed
Dextroamphetamine

Jimmy was focused
Jimmy didn't bother
Jimmys brain a couple grams lighter

The doctor intrigued gets a free meal
To switch Jimmy's speed
Four more Jimmies
Doctor can vacation expenses paid
By the sea

Jimmy keeps on taking his pills
Then over night
Jimmy hits his first pipe
Now that's some ******* good speed

And the story goes
Without relief
The government we know
Deligates neurological slavery

It's not cute,
I don't find it funny.
The lack of concern for education,
And your glasses aren't cute either.

I'm growing quite tired of the lame leaders.
Expectation to teach the future generation.
The warriors, in a future of unknowing,
By the ignorant, traditionalist.

And I could sit here all day,
Catching glints of light off your hip glasses.
Peppered with egocentric, infantile remarks.
So cute
The lack of education
So cute
The lack of nutrition
So cute
The false profits; the obtuse teachers
So cute
Your hip glasses.

I try to remember the "good times."

Just to realize I'm drowning,
Drowning on Hallmark lines

Remembering the "good times"
Smiling complacently
Drowning on Hallmark lines

And I realize the memories
Were all good

One lines.

Tell me one more time.

One more time we could get off this, high rise
And you could lie,
To me, once more.

Just a bunch of kids falling off,
This mountain side.
Did the tide brings us in?

I take pride in my ability,
To manage chaos with reality.
We can never forget chaos,
If we expect, to ever
Secure an independent reality.

To die, to resurrect
Once more, tonight?

Let's get off this high rise.
And lie,
Lie to me,
Once more.

His Down's Syndrome makes
His age a tough guess, I'll
Say eight to ten.

Wide eyes on machines,
Ice cream dripping on the
Pavement outside the

Construction site.
I wanna work like this when
I grow up, he says in

Young enthusiasm to a mother
Whose eyes well up with
Gratitude when I approach

And kneel down in front of
Him. So you want a job,
Buddy? I ask him with a

Wink. He suddenly remembers
His ice cream and bites into
It shyly. Nods, glancing at the

Tools in my belt, the scratches
On my arms, the brick wall
I've been attacking with a

Wacker jackhammer. Nods
Again. Well, I'll see you in a
Few years, I say with another

Wink, this time to his mother,
Who'd look her young age if
Her eyes weren't as tired,

But you can start with this
And get some practice. I hand
Him my Stanley Fat Max

Hammer. His ice cream
Hits the ground as he
Recieves it with both hands,

Looking to his mother for
Confirmation that it's ok.
Oh, it is. She mouths a

Thank you SO much...
They walk away, his chatter
High pitched and fading

Around the corner. And I
Head over to the foreman to
Report that I lost my hammer.

Don't ever employ me.
I can work a good game, but
I'm too soft around little heroes.