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david badgerow Jun 2012
my dreams are boiled
and scorched up
like a fever blister on the lip
of an anarchist
on the seventh consecutive day of
ozzfest

i'm hot and i am bothered
like the knickers of
the old french ***** who lives
upstairs
in every grimy novel
ever published

the lips on my face
are puckered and raw
like the *******
of every ****** in prison
because
we've been kissing
for weeks now,
lying naked and careless
like the bright setting sun
splashing the floor of your room
with sweat
and ***
and primal laughter

now i'm standing on your doorstep
wet from the rain
wanting
one
more
sunburned mosquito bite.
Papa Ghost Feb 2014
Every time I think you're sick
I look in the mirror and see
That I've got the same disease
I loathe my thoughts so much
They make me freeze
And then I remember where they came from
You bred them into me
I learned them from you
If this makes me sound like a ****
Remember who is just as sick
That's right it's you
Now listen to this track
Be back in a few

It's never my fault
We have to stop the symptoms
But never the disease
It's always their fault
We have to stop the enemy in our bed
Rather than make the demons in our hearts stay dead

Is it a surprise I'm a demon summoner onstage
Calling forth the self-hatred in their hearts
Culling them away from their rage
Exercising exorcism like I do with words
You are the monsters
Pens are my swords
I only learned from the best
The best teachers in town
I'm so successful I dedicate this crown
To the ******* that made a blood pact
A deal that put me to a test
I don't want to ******* take
This portrait of us isn't real
It's ******* fake

It's never my fault
We have to stop the symptoms
But never the disease
It's always their fault
We have to stop the enemy in our bed
Rather than make the demons in our hearts stay dead

How does it feel
That I profit from our ozzfest
Our screamo shows
Our nu metal fest fodder
How does it feel that this drama
Makes me rich without trauma
I'm no Johnny Davis or Chino Moreno
Solo soy tu coseno
Adjacent to a hypotenuse of hate
An underlying burn I'm used too
I can't ever feel nothing
Because I always feel your burn

It's never my fault
We have to stop the symptoms
But never the disease
It's always their fault
We have to stop the enemy in our bed
Rather than make the demons in our hearts stay dead

It doesn't have to be this way
We can put our swords away
And face our demons together
We don't have to divide a house to fall
I don't have to come home appalled at the blood
The very blood in my veins boiling
We can live instead of toiling
**** the symptoms
Cure the disease
Don't make me freeze
When you never claim fault
So you can go to sleep in peace
And make me lay in pieces
I want to finish this song
But most of all
I want you to finish it too
I don't know how much profanity is regulated. So I'm sorry if any of my harsher words put you off. This is supposed to be a song. But I have no band yet. So enjoy.

— The End —