Down on your knees, a slave to authority, don’t pull it down, let them wait a little bit. Join the vocal majority, join the realm of insanity, with more mental cuts, more mental silence, then all your fucked up ignorance cults. Boy know what I could do for you? Girl know how I could make you? Worked in a small town, for a effeminate man....with a family. Angry Americans, scare me, like snakes in a bed, like badgers instead. Broken poison butterflies. Broken monochrome families. You’re a what, a what? A real man. A real manly man. A skinny girl. A short skirt girl. You’re what? Hollow heart, you’ve been with too many sickest sons, too many burning like gasoline. I’m no mad man, but I’m all for insanity, not your insanity. Insanity. What makes you eat their shit. Everyday. You eat their shit. What makes you eat their shit, and love it?
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hey adrian! i've moved blogs to a new url for privacy reasons.
please follow me!
http://requiemforablackbird.blogspot.com/
you can link and i will continue to link you.
write some more! i love your work!
ps. key to wonderland was deleted. im not gonna be alice anymore. i need change.
I don't love the shit
but a number of burly men
tied me to a bed and stuck an IV of it into me.
This preacher that speaks
it is not the words people hear
and I may misfire
but perhaps that is your greatest grief
that for you, like me, the world is a vortex of words, and words, and words
that haunt you and give you transient relief when you write them down
but the sheep that hear the preacher pontificate with lies
to you only his words exist
and you feel like serrated knives
how meaningless they are.
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