I once heard that suicide was painless,
especially if you use the steel that is stainless.
But when you go, you're bound to die nameless,
and everyone is helpless but no one is blameless.

I once heard you could determine your life with a game of MASH,
from who you would marry and if they'd have cash.
The future was written out but the ink gave me a rash,
and the destination was plotted to come to a crash.

Now through early morning fog I see,
every regret and every memory,
grasping a hopeful visionary,
that in this life we can be free.

I once heard that suicide was painless,
and with tragedy you can become famous,
but the outcome is always quite heinous,
and we all have pride but the release is shameless.

Now through early morning fog I see,
the line between truth and reality,
and with every wish and every plea,
I beg the world to just let it be.

Yes suicide is painless,
it's a route of living chainless,
but it only leaves destruction in it's wake.
Yes suicide is painless,
it's skies are always rainless,
but the rays of sunshine are extremely fake.

Yes suicide is painless,
It's outcome is very gainless,
the only thing that's gifted is heartbreak.

suicide is painless
but injustice isn't

it's not fair
it's not fair

i've had a migraine
and a song to match
stuck in my head
for two days

and now
i'm crying

it's not fair
it's not fair

and oh but every war
is in color blazing
bright calfornia sun
soundstage color

he was so close
so **** close

but i don't think it
was the war's fault

you see some people
just aren't destined
for happy endings
and that's not war's fault

wars are needed
to keep things
balanced
too much calm
leaves mundane
trenches in us

but it's still
not fair

not fair he had
to die and not fair
that had he died
another way
it would have
been painless

take or leave it
but do i take
or leave it?

he didn't get that choice

suicide is painless
but death still hurts

My daughter fell in love with a potato,
                        "A potato.......
My mind was confused and my face was a picture...
of why would someone ever love a potato?

I asked this myself in my head then out loud.
     My darling how have you a fondness for a potato?

He is the only one for me he is so soft and never
has a chip on his shoulder..

A chip? really, how did you meet my little lady.
He was just mulling around in a mash pit,
The music was the spud rock and he was my root.

I will have to meet you new boyfriend,
Dad, I love Barry, he even let me  wear his jacket
it was so fluffy inside...

Fathers out there would have the same look on
their face as I do now!!!!!
"OK,  as I was waiting impatiently to see this lad.

She walked in hand in hand, I just gave the daddy
look, hi Barry he stared in a starch looking gaze.
my daughter spoke "I'll just get my bag,

I spoke in my sternest voice,
"Barry if you don't treat my daughter right,
"Lets just say ill mash you up, understand....

And then they left not the gentlemen of before
no jacket to lend her, just walking out the door
like he had just been roasted by my words...

Hours had past worry in my thoughts then my
daughter came back, tears in her eyes.
"What ever was the matter my darling?

"He had steamed off because I wanted to know
why he never leant me his jacket,

"He said I was being a dumpling with him,

"So I told him you were right and that he had
a chip on his shoulder, he replied I was fried,

I told her that potato's can be a little mashed, and
a chip they will always have, because you cant change
a potato they will always have a little starch inside...

The band starts playing at a ***** and crowded backyard.
Rebellious youth gather to cast their vote with the stomping of their doc martin boots.
Beer cans everywhere, everyone's trying to let loose the raw stranglehold their society has produced.
The guitars go off and the ritual begins.
First they assemble in the heart of the pit.
In the center individual tragedies bring fourth the wrath of a God's army.
Anarchy you call it, Ha! I call it reassurance, reassurance that this anger is surely communal.

I never saw it more clearer, the youth's power to resist: If the government wont hear us, we will create our own sound even under the batons of fascism, we spit on your rule, your control of our art.

We wont bow down to a law with our names written all over it, while another politician walks free from corruption.
While another officer guns down an un armed child and calls it self-defense.
While suspicious mass shootings continue to occur and mass cameras grow in recording.
While you send more people off to war for another countries resources.
These thoughts explode out of me into shoves, screams, ****** cuts, reckless behavior, and then finally release. Pure psychiatric release.