Her friends in the dark, always playing games,
The headless One in places never expected always
A mouthful of jelly maggots, he likes the games.

"I eat one every now and again,

The eyeless one never watching where he goes always
Jumping out ***** nails so I gave then a coat of baby
Pink much prettier, now his teeth all un-neat.

"Sharp and graceful what do you think,

They like the place of perpetual darkness, they said I
Can visit it soon, I packed my Dora bag. they said its
A one way trip, one more game of hide and seek.

**"A slimy goes down before my eternal sleep Mmm...,

Rain makes the mighty fir stronger
As she creates a home for unsubstantial creatures
Glimpses of birds mean little in the long life she is to endure,
Hundreds of years with thankless children add up to nothing.
And still years alone wear down the mightiest of giants,
Nature brings great storms to test her will.
A groan, a thud, and silence
Roots splayed above a grave.
Even after the rain stops holding her up,
She has not escaped her job of nourishment.
Her ribs cave in,
Maggots selfishly taking their fill
As their fat bodies writhe in the flesh of god.

My body's full of worms and ugly maggots
They squirm inside my heart and in my soul
They fester from my list of nasty habits
That each day become harder to control

My insides are full of maggot **** and dirt
I'm rotting out and spitting out thick mud
I'm choking on my worms, but it don't hurt
They're feeding on my tears and my sweet blood

Soon I am decayed and nothing's left
Except some hair and nails and piles of bone
My death was oh so easy to accept
And now my maggot friends have greatly grown

microphone snakes, gas mask, covered eyes,
barbwire nation, sounds of pavement inside,
graffiti alleyways, women laying down in fields of poppies


Turn the camera on me. Look what you see
maggots crawling around like a ******* disease
turn your head now, roll your ******* eyes
like an apple core eaten up used and tossed aside

forbidden fruit of ones mind
defiled demeaned and rotten inside
searching, N searching, for something to find
discover mind in the gutter, under covers it hides

forbidden fruit and forgotten lies
so much time to expand our minds

Turn the camera on me. and Look what you see
maggots crawling around just like a ******* disease
turn your head now, roll your ******* eyes
like an apple core eaten up and tossed aside


lost memories and forgotten dreams
succumbing to fit of weakness
no one knows what it means
but we say the truth is what were speaking


Turn the camera on me. Look what you see
maggots crawling around like a ******* disease
turn your head now, roll your ******* eyes
like an apple core eaten up and tossed aside

Tell me what you see!!. Turn your hate on the
Little pig get down On your filthy knees
turn your head now, close your weary eyes
The Caterpillar becomes the butterfly
used abuse refussing to die

I'll keep it to myself.
Let it tear me apart,
From the inside out.
You know, some people never change.
Sometimes, its better off that way.

And as the maggots come to be,
They rest in the best parts of me.
So go ahead,
Shut lock that door,
Those places aren't special no more.

Soon enough there won't be a single piece,
Left of who I use to be,
But maybe its better off this way,
Maybe ill start over someday.

Oh no, im not scared to die,
I just dont think I can look,
Into your pale blue eyes.
It might be a silly fear,
But a promise is a promise my dear.

So ill keep it to myself.
There's no point in letting it out.
Its fading and decaying anyway,
I already can't recall yesterday.

Dont want you to see what I have become,
I wash my guilt away with long walks and ***.
Oh no, it dont help that much.
But nothing does after you've lost touch.

So I'll keep it to myself.

****** affliction of a lack of affection companion
Hand and hand strolling greater than syrupy plunging
and even sometimes buddy shrugging over wooden noisemakers
We whistle with their metal strings
and through the pasta soft ones in our throats
but no nest colored mares seem to hear
our flamboyant feather calls for future fondling
So I scribe slight implied short letters
invites to drink joints and nature jaunts
All too well thought out
hoping your advanced technology cannot trace
the time I spent to type
The overanalysis of our psych: her and I’s
wondering why she doesn’t have an inkling
for a cute fall date where we attempt to bake apple pies
It’s all too contrived, I know
I’ll strive for delusion
Accept a useful interpretation for our chemical inflammation
and let sparks pass it by
Like itsy bitsy flies laying eggs in a wound
for stagnant water maggots
They’ll eat away the thought well
where all my cranial zaps seem to dwell.