Feelings gone; I feel so gone
hinder and hold up, past display.
The ole' bump and grind scene is so old
wept as the whole thing came tumbling down.

Good lighting will make you look 20 years younger
yet will it hide all the bruises make-up can't?
Fought with both fists, ran on both feet
lost with both fingers squeezing the triggers.

Hopelessly, desperately
almost unattainable.
Wash the blood stains
from the walls.

Gritty, slutty
almost diseased.
Wax about good times
while in a rut.

It's a simple way taking simple means
yet even the simplest of things can be difficult.
Hold your hand out, receive a hand-out
do you feel cheap when your living for free?

Locked down by society like the plague
but this time I'm a criminal survivalist.
I've beaten the odds, I've beaten the game
look out for Public Enemy Number One.

Resistably, totally
forgotten by time.
Hope flows out from cupped hands
like water from a river.

Tearfully, regretably
soothed by napalm.
Candles cry, tears pouring upwards
as we jump over them all.

When the system falls, who will we blame?

Got a gun but not a clue
it ends conversations and answers all questions.
Rightous leaders with their finger on the button
the one that readys "impeding apocalypse".

Sing a song like the fading blues
yet with every ounce of strength, we lose.
Blood pours from cuts made by invisible blades
which we bandage with rolls of red tape.

Astudiously, astronomically
stars are aligned against us.
Like a neutron bomb
buried in your backyard.

Presentably, fortudiously
with without much glee.
Cry to the devil
to save all our souls.

When the wrould ends, where will the fingers point?

04/27/2007