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Aa Harvey Apr 2018
Sweet dreams are made of cheese


Sweet dreams are made of cheese;
Who am I to offer you brie?
I’ve travelled the world on a sea of fleas;
Everybody is looking for Sunday.


Some of them want to feed you!
Some of them want to get fed by you.
Some of them want to amuse you.
Some of them want to be amused.


(Long instrumental…)


Sweet dreams are made of cheese;
Who am I to offer you brie?
I’ve travelled the world on a sea of fleas;
Everybody is looking for Sunday.


Some of them want to feed you!
Some of them want to get fed by you.
Some of them want to amuse you!
Some of them want to be amused!!!


I wanna kangaroo, to amuse you.
I wanna know what’s inside that stew.


Moving home; I keep moving home.
Moving home; I’m moving hooommme.
Moving home; I’m moving home.
Moving hooooommmme!!!


(Long instrumental…)


Sweet dreams are made of cheese;
Who am I to offer you brie?
I’ve travelled the world on a sea of fleas;
Everybody is looking for Sunday.


Some of them want to feed you!
Some of them want to get fed by you!
Some of them want to amuse you,
Some of them want to be am-----used----!!!


I’m gonna peekaboo and amuse you.
I’m gonna know what’s inside!!
Gonna peekaboo and amuse you.
I’m gonna know what’s inside,
Stew…


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
These are the lyrics I sing when I listen to Marilyn Manson's Sweet Dreams song.  I have been singing my own lyrics for years, so I thought I would write them down.
stone the bear Apr 2016
4/20
99
indescri-
bible,
colum-
bine.

This launched,
a devious
plan-
something the whole
world needs to
understand:

Society makes its mark,
their wish came true.
&elieve; me when i say
they thought nothing of me
or you.

they only drew you near.
You be-
lieved,
to them,
you we-
re dear.
But then one day, you realized, you were no longer their peer.
Leaving their reputation:
smeared.

You told them your worries
you said them LOUD and clear,
they didn’t give a ****;
instead they riddled you with fear.

they really shouldn't care.
but you had to leave your mark, when
living in their massed produced ware
forced you to spend your days in the dark.

it is true
within everything they do.
they do not really care.
society serves to exploit me
while exploiting you, too.
------------------------------------
So this is where we stand,
among all the **** in the land.
and we still wonder why another man’s grass
is far more grand.

we must eradicate
everything we were told to ever know
do you know the devil
may live within your own
very home?

So many sit and wait
with their message in a bottle,
but what we need to do
is go heavy on the throttle.

Build yourself a sanctuary,
somewhere in merry's land
become Mr. Manson,
or maybe you prefer,
Scarlett Johansson.
my reaction to bowling for Columbine," orchestrated by Michael Moore
ConnectHook Sep 2015
Loons in the vineyard –  sound the alarm !
Satan is milking his metaphors.
Such silly music music portends no harm;
call home the cows and open your doors.

Brian Hugh Warner, a paleface freak
after finding his mom’s mascara
darker enlightenment did seek
and crowned himself with Baal’s tiara.

Scary drag-queen, scandalous, vain
Marilyn – the creepy thespian
rolled that fish-eye and snorted *******
like Crowley…  how pedestrian.

Flashing his glowing cataract,
he gave the mommies quite a fright.
Censorship launched; no badder act
did sail (or assail) our sinking night.

Gothic dim-wits purchased CD’s
bought the goods, pierced parts, wore black.
(Cause for certain parents’ unease:
MTV’s Antichrist on the attack).

Son of Man – or rather, Manson
Milked to the max his demonic cow;
playing Satan’s naughty grandson
showing the flustered milk-maids how.

Urban legend surrounds this fowl
(those ribs removed – like Adam’s sin!)
Is he a misunderstood night owl –
or a has-been loon in a loony bin?

Rock-stars age (well, most) like a cheap wine.
or else in the way once-ripened grapes
withering, sun-struck, off the vine
transform, with age, into wizened shapes.

No – I am wrong. They age like prunes;
plums thus pass into their glory.
Even Luciferian loons
find lakes of fire at end of story.
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/mine/various/

come on over my house

Martin Narrod Apr 2014
it is a post-human resistance to still-born meat,
the floccinaucinihilipilification of the catholic retreat;
another God disguised to look like me.

— The End —