Hell, I'm the result of a decade or more of some coddle culture
******* left over from safety scissors bound up in bubble wrap
Much to do about feuding parties of mopped up has beens

Gutted and mutilated by the dullest claws, vomiting out soliloquy to someone waiting off screen

Feeding on attention when I've got none left to spend
Endemic of the stations fashioned on the broken bones of little kids
Who do you think you're kidding
Fitting each misfit with a fistful of
Faux Information
And letting them sort it out with perfect indigantion
Each stroke of a pen left blood on the page
And you wage war warning all of the names written
The only fitting way for you to die
Is in the cause you've helped create

Facing facts

Fabrication is largely left to the mental state
Of intoxicated fake plastic yet venomous snakes
Imagination only limited by wavelength
Of who's thoughts can last longest
Who can outlast

What class is the farthest when ranks are displayed
With golden tradition on vest made of clay
Surrounded by privation
Formal ware decays

When dinner jackets are
Met with machine guns

If its won by numbers, the race will all starve and
If science is ******, vanquished gods walk the streets
The enemy is what we've seen in the dreams
Not what befalls us in countless nightmares

Daring

My scrap meat is metal to build my machine
Body of parts I was so denied
Lithe and disjointed
Foraging necessities
Festering sensitivities lead to machinated loss of life

Let it sink

This ship is filling with the inked material lies
You claimed I could safely sail upon
Bailing out every word I despise
Something tells me, I'll find nothing to drown in

Nine o'clock

Weaponry only to serve me in time
Once in the presence of what I will claim is mine
Deep inside, rooted in every peer
Fear is the malady keeping them occupied

Each click represents a reclamation
Every time