I wonder what it was like,
what it must have been like
to be a bohemian,
a member of the
beat generation,
strung out on drugs
& alcohol,
falling down
in countless gutters
uttering philosophies
about simple daffodils
to unspeakable perversions.

It must have been so cool
to push the envelope
beyond the wildest dreams
& escape the ******* stupid
status quo people
who seem to just plug along.

It's crazy but true,
but a lot of them
drunken bohemians
died young.

this is death
the irreversible-you're-not-going-to-make-it-out-of-here-in-one-piece­ kind
the "we're going to break you down until there's nothing left to break"
"but bones"
"and then we'll break them too"
i swear! i paid the piper
i paid the piper
i paid the piper
but Piper doesn't care-
he wants more tears
more lies, more lives
more fear
the piper wants you dead
and no blood on his hands
i am not the willing henchman
but my hands are caked in dirt
and i couldn't stop digging these graves if i wanted to



or is it just the truth?

The best gifts are rarely physically given to one another,
for the most part they are simply memories,
but one of the best physical gifts one can give
is simply a handwritten note.

Why not just let my mind flow
Straight off the top
Like I was cultivating dro

Stay on top
Don't fall behind
Because when you do
You start running out of time

I'm always looking
To the left and to the right
But when the hatred comes near
I'm on it full sight

That's my life
And I will respect it
Except for a few things
That came unexpected

Like the lippin'
Straight **** talkin'
Always trippin'
No good stalkin'

Always saying false statements
Getting caught up in the net
They forgot they're placement
And they say that I'm next

Yet when I come near
They become full of fear
And dread the wrath of me
When I come in next year