September 6th, 2010

Oh, I just want freedom.
I want normal again,
Too bad it left sixty years ago,
On the first train to Texas.

I gotta see it,
Gotta hold it in my hands and believe it.
I don't understand, I just don't get the fascination.
Preparation,
Exasperation that we feel over nothing.
How could it be so easy to live disillusioned.
How easy can it be to care about nothing.
All at the same time?

What do you think of this?
My dearest creation.
I do so like it myself,
Give me a hand with the trigger, will you?
Yes, just send the wires there,
And then we hit the lever,
And voila, it's magic.

Something that moves and breathes and speaks,
But has no meaning behind each thing.
No goal in it's existence.
Something that mimics, and operates,
And does only that.

.

Let it break don't fade a way and just fuck it all I don't have anymore to say and yet

I keep trying each day to find some hidden meaning in the doubts in my brain,

and still there are no answers, no burning lights to my empty prayers.

.

So open your hand and take whatever you can get,
Cuz there's nothing left for us to be picky,
There's no life in being real.
Just close those little eyes,
And glassy tears.
We can't accept what you've been giving us all along,
Because a lie is a lie and
No sugar coated sundaes will make it go down easier.

If a murderer makes a victim, then what do I make?
I am nothing, therefore I should create something,
Shouldn't I?

Oh let's have rhetoric and sing our empty songs,
Fill the beer with glass,
And dance in unending dreamed joy.
Sink under and under and deeper and deeper into drink.
Absorb every piece of fa├žade,
Sink your dirty little teeth into what you've never even seen before.
Having any fun yet?
Go fuck it.
Go see what the fuss is,
And read my mind,
You think I care?

With hollow words and full voices,
We bleed out our hearts to thin air,
And puke out all our 'supposed to be's' into sound.
Think of it now,
Don't stop to speak without thinking,
Anymore.

Any more than we need to hear because your words are rotten and rotting.
We simply don't have time for irrelevance and complaints.
There's no too late like this late.
Don't give up hope on everyone, just humanity itself.
Define every word as if it has a greater meaning,
And by now you could tell me what fuck off means,
If a poet were to sing it out on empty white pages.
Oh yes, pure meaning and emotion.
Two words that mean nothing,
And yet they try to briefly imitate some far reality.

Go ahead and tell me,
You'll sink my ship and watch my sullen bones sink away,
To the bottom of a cold and dangerous sea,
Where I'd rather be having fun than here.

And I lie, I lie, I lie,
Because what's in a lie, but the truth?