Wayward horizons

How you rearrange the promised lands and saviour.
The greedy mans vote is needed, feed his armies and political favours.
Global disharmony to aid the elite of wealth amassing conglomerates.
Reforms and petitions are on the rise, no power in their bill of rights.
Little good it will do for their wayward to the right voting.
Deformed competition, spraypainted horizons.
Wristwatches and cars being bought by zombie consumers.
Share a manufactured disease.
A manufactured destiny.

Gone from you

The nightmare went past dawn!
The morning poked you with fright.
From that day the sun never shone.

The one who helped you control your life is gone.
If she said she´d stay would have felt alright?

Quietly step aside and check the feelings
of late instilled.


The laws of relationships are stronger
than your own will.

Dull times when she strayed from your side...

Now she´s gone for good,
somewhere far she hides.


Hell times the day she left you,
note on the refridgerator as empty
on the inside as you as you deflate .

Your rotten heart in the mouth of an alligator.
Bobbing up and down that log underneath,
now it´s it between that beasts teeth.

Step aside and check your feelings,
the laws of lost love are dealing your hand.

Carnal yearnings denied. Lust thrill an inflated fantasy.
She´s gone from you.

Devastating explosions

Purpose he did it on purpose.
Five weeks of work and accumulating bomb recipes.
He did for his Beliefs, pity.
His diabolical misconceptions.
Sheltering himself from all walks of life he...
Grew to dread his city.
Seeking refuge in his house of religion- pleading, sitting.
There his plan was sewn in his minds knit weave.
A series of devastating explosions ate through a whole neighbourhood.
All his talk of love, of understanding and of brotherhood,
but ruses to mislead people from his impending atrocity.
The chaos and the panic rocked the suburbs, gunfights started and accusations were made.
That cunning little hater who killed dozens holed up in his church,
But the authorities efforts were fruitless finding nothing in their search.

Technology´s axe

Draw the axe and swing with the modern day.
In conjunction with the functions of technology´s way.
Plug yourself into our power points.
Electricity and control in your veins.
Rever the satelite so open and round.
A billion light years away is the next playground...
Impossible with our new found dependance.
Tune into the local waves.
The matrix/terminator cliche is ever-grave;
An ever-ringing interactive lunchbell.
Do we operate machines or are we their slaves.

Breaking Syria

Killing is a curseword,
Strive for liberty;
Dictation is the worst word.
Civilians die, how civil should they be?
Shields and walls and bomb blasts keep e´m home before curfew.
Selling oil keeps you in power, but your citizens are cursing you.
Bashar al assad, roasted conscience couldn´t be,
For beyond your iron fist is enough blood for the red sea.
Hope´s in seeing the end of your family´s ugly dynasty.

Not worth crying over.

The strangest thing.
Weeks with no rain.
As if we´re not worth crying over.
As if the heavens have left us high and dry.
Clouds form such teasing shapes.
The tone of blue around them screams silence and isolation.
As a few of those funny cloud shapes join to give you the impression...
There will be relief.
No.
High and dry, heat just enough to turn me on.
Strange thing is I wish it more than the pleasant heat that´s suave effect leaves me relaxed and uncaring.

Flowers

Grindcost

When you get to the shops in your poor excuse for a vehicle.
You´ll notice it´s not even worthy of running down roadkill.
Your heavy.
Fill the boot with snacks, forget all the rusty cracks, before the entire trunk suddenly snaps.
Boom and rock! Your big bum hits it like a train.
A few kilos more than society can carry, thank god it´s insane.
A big container of icecream will get you through the morning.
Burgers for lunch and exercise porn.
This has your spine out of shape and pillpopping mum needs you junkie.
This has your life still to wake sleeping on marshmallow chocolate frosting.
Blind to your hearts hazard, your own anguish coping a grindcost.
Who can take the blame?
Who can trade your name? What no-one? Getting down with the cool kids talk! Anguish and an agonizing grindcost.
Though your blood wont run thin, I can´t believe the state you´re in!

Your fiction

Colour me bored with your scripture, like descriptions.
Colour me dull like the plaster walls you´ve put up between us.
Claim to know the universe,
but your boasts are simple fiction.
Call my craft ornate.
Label me faithless like you´ve felt the layers of this heart.
Tis´ your own interpretation your righteous depiction.
Is that where you beg for power?
When that strange aroma wakes you, remember someone ground those beans.
And what you include in his name, he may not agree.
That you tell us how to love, how to live, and breed.
but your boasts are simple fiction.
Scripture descriptions.
Real love doesn´t boast, doesn´t want to be right, but is...
Just is... undeniably!

A new war

Cruise missiles touch down across the poor desert nation´s metropole.
Another pocket of quarters, gas and political stability.
The protests not foiling your ideas of further deception.
Good intentions fullfilling dreams of deep wide zero.
Gentiles, heathens and infidels eat side by side and share the disgust.
Right wing Leaders lead with dignant demons shooting them full of meglomania with religious text needles.
Conservative Leaders that have taken the liberty to force feed us their ideas.
What our eyes can´t see in the middle east, screams our ears can´t hear!
War is within and without.

Lizard´s night

On the wall bleeping like a car alarm.
Ball fingers crawling and sticking up the wall and upside down.
Their diamond heads smashing the night.
Chirping like birds in a late evening devoid of light.
Creeping along window ledges for a lazy moth.
Darting across the tile floor like a rubber bullet.
Even when the moon is dead these pale creatures emerge and tweet.
Agile wild beguiled reptile, whisper to me.
Ant trails have dried, so lick your eyes and come here.
Arachnids at bay tell me the secret of your coldblood.
And the tiny spines that hold you to any surface.
Defying gravity in your nocturnal existance.

Druid

Upon my welts,
The heat and ash druid?
Upon my welts i´m blackened.
What does my lacerated flesh give way to?
As you ponder on the next blessing or curse.
This hemlock and mushroom concoction.
These unseen species you´ve hypnotised our village with.
Outlandish laughter fills the awning of our humble straw houses...
Drum Druid... where our footsteps fall I hear echos, celtic fairies surround me, nimphs with wings so blinding, why?
I feel the energy ecaping from my skin druid.
love swelling up and hate dragging me down.
late, I feel a thorned tongue delivering flame.
Why´d you dare the dragon when you knew it´d treat our modest existance like a childrens game.

Searing heart

Tried everything and been left wanting, there´s perhaps a joke to be made.
tearing feeling, what?
Post this pain not on a mailman´s life,
hey.
Searing heart half wishing i´d complain!
Crust and fuss and craving.
Arrows point.
Strings tight about to fly.
Post me this pain...
In my complaint.
If you´ve found those places where I´m as weak as a fallen bat in daylight.
Try anything to subdue my lust and craving half full of passion hiding in my heart.

Beauty stands still for me(bless it)

Beauty stands still, hush.
Looking innocent yet we play that way for the night and it´s eyes.
Looking back questioning eyes, gorgeous.
Look deeper let me swim in your thoughts, no doubts.
Becoming clear.
Travelling the minds tunnels stopping at all it´s fantasies.
You think in a blink of an eye I can´t get there?
Scarcely enough room for a tear.
Love we somehow pretend to share.
Dwindling goodbyes carry out De Ja Vu bliss.
Rich and fertile, woman...
Your smile.

Overlord

Helmeted and vested troops run parallel to the sewers.
Swarms of tanks approach the city limits.
A minute of sinister anticipation as mortars are mounted and rocket tragectories are adjusted.
"Craaack!" The chambers let loose and the city bathes in fire.
The overlord´s stomach groans as he witnesses the carnage, next to his diabolical general.
Washing the streets in bullets and loud popping shrapnel.
The overlord´s grin fills his face, as if it were empty before.
His mind a mechanism of control.
In his temples where he radiates dangerous lies.
In his troops who hit the frontline to consume it or die.
Lands washed colourless through industry and modern warfare.
The overlord´s laughter shrill and swift like a mounted heavy machine gun.
Knowing the deeds he´s carved into man have tainted them and given them little space for redemption.

Kilmog

The dwarf pines line you.
Blackfrost sticks to you in the winter.
You climb up three hundred metres, cold and rocky you remain proudly sheek.
Black ice/shadow corners send the unaware motorist off your spine and down a trecherous precipice.
Ghost eyes linger after hours when there´s no traffic.
Turning the top of your head into a phantoms playground.
As the pines and sycamores grow taller toward your base, we realise there´s no coincidence to your haunting baldness.
The Kilmog not far from Edinburgh´s sister city.
Soot and grit layer it, and fog romances it before spring.
Some relief is felt as the other side is reached and...
The driver´s cadence liberates him from a darker realm.
Noone ever thought of the south as a home for goblins!
Dunedin with it´s heart and it´s light.
Yet The Kilmog is their womb, it´s mother and unforgiving it thirsts for weary travellers at the wheel.

If I could change your face.

If I could change your face, rearrange it with my tastes in mind.
You could find it ugly and curse my searching hands.
If I could make your face up with my tricky kraken magic.
I´d also own your soul and command the way it dances.
If I could move your flesh from one part of you to another.
Make your body a synonym for that smooth word "lust"!
Any street you stood, or establishment you entered, cars would crash and plates would fall, shattering spilling and denting.
Around your periphery each accident would be a heartbeat as you´d stroll through the city. If I could rearrange your face, you´d perhaps find it a pity.
Find it ugly and curse my searching hands.

The frosty ambitious heart.

The walls of ice ride up the side of the railwaytracks.
The height up to the glass, through blizzards passed.
The grinding wheels slip on sticky ice layered metal.
The train will still make it to the east even before the next snow settles.
Extravagant clothing and perfume trigger fingers travel the train through the frozen dusk.
All aboard obsessions and fleeting modern trends, to the east or bust.
Engineers and lawyers make small talk craving the interruption of another station stop.
Leaving behind their "brag about" past, toward a cold future where unpredictably, the temperature drops.
Snow storms move in and occupy for months killing dozens with their frostbite and hypothermia.
So learning to be cold hearted will get you through those hard winter months.

Alien abduction

Alien abductions.
You´ve been caught half asleep.
The greys have landed in your back yard,
You´re too scared to peep.
Their swift entry into your house and then bedroom, like a pack of rapists.
The greys they say are here to examine you, here´s the knockout mist.
To catch you half asleep in your vulnerable pre R.E.M wonder fright.
They have made your body stiff and still.
Their big dark eyes drill terror into your petrified mind.
Their speech makes your ears bleed and their wirey arms give you goose bumps.
They are here to steal you away for research, tear you apart with lazers and hotblades reeeeeeee.
Alien abductions, pray alittle louder, why are they here, god help me.
The greys have waited and how punctual they be. As you turn out your light after reading they count down your sheep, aaaaaah!
They were in the attic spreading their foreign bacterias, they were in the basement laying morbid eggs leaving only the discharge in the laundry basket.
Ah the greys no end to their genius as they hover over area fifty one. Dropping their waste over arizona, vaporizing a lost lone hunter.
And now they´re here for you.
Reeeeeee...
Ahhhhhhhh...

Old testament capitalist!

He sent a cage full of food.
That the poor couldn´t open or even access to remove.
The heroe watches dribbling salivating as the poor unsuccessfully reach.
Then a boy managed to get his hand in from underneath.
He shared the food paying no mind to his own stomach.
Seeing this ungodliness the heroe sent his brave soldiers to attack.
The little boy was slaughtered and labelled a terrorist.
As the heroe came down from his white horse and shook his fist.
The poor were made to lie and put the pavement to their lips.
So again the next hunger pained day the poor tried to claw at the cage and what remained.
The Heroe excited and inspired watched as his unfortunate citizens tried to extract the food invain.
When an old man´s key fitted the lock and out came the all the dinner.
The noble heroe was astounded at such a shameless sinner.
He came down with axe and his magnificent cape.
And butchered half the towns folk before they could escape.
Now the next day the few poor left were feeling less hungry
For the way the heroes axe had sung so righteous and holy.
The heroe became inconsolable and ordered the guards to make them pretend.
When the poor wouldn´t approach the cage they were prodded by sharp spear ends.
The heroe saw beauty and the world come alive.
Tears of joy and blessing he did cry.
All the gold his father gave him.
Blessed the church deemed him exempt from sin.
Obviously god had chosen him, so said all the nobles brown nosing him.
His crusade of passion and conscience spread to far kingdoms, for their church was the only true one. And their riches were given by his father, I mean god. And evil quivered at the sight of the heroe and his singing axe.

Witch of dawn and fright.

How she approaches, iron apron fright!
From the west with fireflies! From the west with a strange odour of chupacabra!
Hover over the rocks my girl.
The water flowing and blood red in the dreams of your midnight sonambulous head.
Sins of the flesh that no mortal man dare turn down.
Emaciated witch with your doll of clay and human skin, what curse will you lay upon my odin trodden head.
I can´t substitute Loki!
Collect your prey and return to the blankets bleeding and smiling.
The land darkens with your black dawn grin.
Stained stairs lead to your alter, How you had tried to invite me!
Hoards of demons waiting for your putrid incantations.
Wicked lips;
Intoxicated through the dim lit ritual hall, running around half blind are the hungry animals you intend to slaughter.

Old timer

He lived along time, no woman to comfort him.
Noone.
It´s a cold refrigerator in his heart and he says yes even when he doesn´t mean it. And never must commit cause they know he´s havín them on!
There´s seldom an emotion that causes an anomaly in his heart beat.
How I envy this man, this warrior!
I admire the foolish moon, yet his night is dark blue and alone.
My ventricles are pushed between women, and his between parts in his car.
He lived along time.
I´ll die soon, a lost, unknown poet.

Bleed trying

I go to your side there my heart is baby, baby ha!
There my heart is made of straw.
It burns ablaze with the sparks you conjure through your voice.
Through your high heel blasters.
Leave it in ashes.
The kind of girl that would let the sailor drown or the fireman burn.
Extreme likeness to lilith.
How i´d love to blunt your teeth, guess i´ll just bleed trying!

Shaped to kill

A bullet shaped to kill, mum.
Born to fly though a man, a psychopathic hornet.
From a chamber of a womb, it´s born and someone´s bleeding.
Barb wire, dad... To catch desperate bodies.
A wave of flesh sent by the government in some plight of victory.
Sharp tangled metal for the shell shocked soldier waking from a bad dream.
It´s shaped to kill, some demented mind´s invention.
In love with death some great king becomes infatuated.
An abstract dictator, high on his own odour.
Buying the forms of guaranteed soul taking metal, fire and chemicals that his own faith forbid.
Shaped to kill like some felic destroyer;
On the horizon of factories producing faith in another man´s demise.
What´s your madness?

Painted village

Painted faces of the victims.
A people in captivity.
A port once used to transport slaves.
Now a bastion for bondage.
The past is never confronted, baal laughs!
Their atrocities never exposed never questioned.
Wrath in a thick pungent paste.
Black cities, dark landlords.
Masterminds of illusion,addicted to dominating the simple folk.
Strings of ridiculous clicks clinging to the social strata.
Subjected to the whims of meglomaniac minds that are growing darker.
Painted wills, assimilated in a metropolis governed by the heartless.

She´s got a date.

Aw, it´s lovely the way you roll that hair, I haven´t a clue about you.
And you´ve got a nice way to interact, kind of watch that smile that´s been growing between your angel dimples.
kind of know you got a thing about teasing.
As if I were a foot from my grave, see your face change.
Like supreme cheese you don´t give a $#%@&¨&**!
Cause you´re a diamond that dazzles us in slippers and a frock.
Will you hint at being somewhere non-comital.
So I can lay down my speech like a brontosaurus lowering his neck for your axe, and to see your immaculate legs.
Some lucky eight with patience is texting no doubt he´ll be next.
Quickly to the back of the line with any thought of these lips I wear.
Any later and you´d bruise like a fruit overmature, would you ask yourself if i´d still want you, would you ponder?
Is there anything for me behind those christmas eyes?

Age toward the end

Sorry we´ve been built this way.
Doesn´t it remind you of amnesia flowing through the elderly with alzheimers.
Earthly beings perishing before our very eyes.
Age, it´s only friend- impatient youths.
As wrinkles cover us, and outbursts of emotion are thrown out of us like an exorcism;
Laughing shadows challenge our guardians.
Sullen grimaces, dreadful decline.
No we don´t flourish like vintage wine.
A room where your family builds a treacherous grief circle.
Warm skin comforts you no more.
Only the warm coloured memories of how you once bathed in a vital life force, your body drenched in energy.
Where your soul will ascend to, some boast to know.
I trust through love you´ll never be truly gone.

Inferno holds hands with ignorance.

He lies awake in his cave.
Soon the air will lift him in metal over land, sea and lake.
He will arrive in a country where humans transform into reptiles.
Land of the immaculate snake.
Ignorance, it´s tail passes from uneducated children to adult criminals.
It´s skin a ghetto, shedded and flaked.
Out of the dark damp concrete jungle, where the poor dismiss science and the rich sell religion and drugs.
Yellow eyes survey their rubbish tip houses.
Reptillian politicians go there to buy people´s votes.
Underneath their feet lies fertile land and minerals.
Yet divided through denominations and greed they can´t dig through the rotten surface.
The cold bloods, fundamentalists and infernos handpicked lieutenants feed their ignorance.
Cultivating faith in old ideas, cultivating poverty and dividing communities between denominational differences.

The humm

Feel that humming;
Hear it coming;
Out of the hornets nest, a bird on fire, flying toward my flammable life.
Feel it humming, that rooster´s throat, that cicada´s back.
Feel it humming that meteor toward modern Gomorra.
Engulfing the west and razing the middle east.
I feel that humm as it floats across the sky.
Diving purposely between sky scrapers.
Scraping along the side walk like some homeless man with claws.
That humming that pours out of appliances, factories and large supermarkets.
That humming that stupifies the masses, subtle inebriation.
Diluting our senses and our instincts, until we´re all extinct.

Blue passion

The hearts a traitor.
It comes to steal the moment.
I wish it would just steal the past.
Blue passion on a bridge between hope and giving up.
Might aswell fill the riverbed in...
As dry weather reigns.
Rain clouds immigrate to some great paradise where all marks of beauty have been carved into some godly statue.
What goodness here will they censor.
Ideas and whims destroyed, blue passion, hungry, waiting.
A prison for the innocent heart.
Those who´d blast disappointments cannons but to see a trace of heart break.
Blue passion ignites like a gas flame.
Why wont it burn the past and clean my path to greener pastures?
Insted of @#$% like a poor neighbours cow.

Arrival

When I arrived neon signs and smiles greeted me.
Jobs came up and i went everywhere to work.
Boys and girls full of optimism searched through...
my half built philosophy.
Trees shined red, flowers hung.
A promise of prosperity.
Newly paved roads, hype and movement surged energitically.
I was like a log being carried by the river.
I´d have snagged had the water not been so sweet.
When I arrived hope´s trumpet blew, I was pleased to have gone deaf.
Yet winters and dried lakes of affection have brought me to a cold plain.
Where I can hear a car horn 10 miles away.
Even in high summer, I shiver with such an uncertain future.

Crocadile man

The weight of the world can crush children.
Can wipe a million smiles off young faces.
Lighting up the smile of cold blooded men,
as vile as crocadiles.
Hurting inside the young transform in their own pain, bitter adolescents search for someone to blame.
When the mind´s a dormant factory and the heart´s a busy abbatoir.
Ugliness consumes the ghostly thoughts left to haunt.
Personalities cheaply spent, proud shoulders and abusive tongue, three months unpaid rent.
If the child is crushed, and god finds where your at;
The descent into oblivion will be as excrutiating as a lunchtime paddle in a crocadile´s lagoon.

Could I be...

Could I be the bonified spectre with sharp photographic eyes.
Blowing the ashes out of a burnt subconscience.
All dressed in criticism, constructing a respect toward a new clean world.
Gullible crowds race after schizophrenic angels.
I reach for nature with my arms and spirit.
My internal freedom.
My long hours of guard duty at the gates of honesty.
My tedious inspections at this bright new world´s quarantine.
Where dark charletons spring forth with arrogance and precocious dogmas.

Like a boulder

Stand away from the cliff...
You could fall off.
Destroy your gun before it goes off.
Give way on the street before an on coming car hits you like a falling boulder.
Don´t go halfway and be a quagmire soldier.
Don´t speed or snore or drink at the wheel, it could steer you to @#$%.
Your coffin heavy on your brothers shoulders.
Don´t be converted to being a bigot, as extreme views holders.
Don´t lie too heavy or blunt people´s ears with the truth.
Stay cool but don´t grow cold.
Keep a drop of real and don´t giveaway your authentic.
Cause you´ll be still rolling like a boulder, when your heroes have all sold out.

Sweatshop boogie

Delapidation and gray block sweat shops.
Young men work the hours away.
Seldom time to shave.
Inconspicuously tying and assembling through a finger tired night.
Destination slavery, except a few lousy yuan.
Forced out of their origins by supply and demand.
Faulty laws hard to abide.
Those worker´s rights have learned to hide.
Stacked communities, people seeking space.
Numbers, factory hands, no name, no face.
Labelled as parasites,
a penny in the politicians pocket of plenty.
Delapidation and eighty hour weeks.
So shelves of gadgets can be sold for nothing.
Vultures decide the value of human suffering.
Wolves impose the exploitation in,
vulnerable third world nations.

A smelling

Compost tang goes right up my nose.
As I clean the container.
Spicy aromas splatter and splash out of my kitchen, blessing it like holy water.
Breathing in the scents of sweet bushes of basil in flower, which drift across a boring concrete city.
My bounding hound leaving his hair across the garage floor with his pine sweat musk overpowering my nostrils.
The imposing pungent bouquet of garlic cut, and between the thumb and forefinger rubbed with love.
The lazer hot zing of freshly squeezed lemons on the bench.
As I go a smelling, I fear blindness slightly less now.

A frigid robot

A cool air courier, the freshest dream.
Buttons to touch...
Opening the vents dull lips.
Keep it breezing, each persons comfort somewhere between boiling and freezing.
Big wind mouth blowing, humming.
Keeping my body on the verge of sweating.
Cleaning the room through it´s filter, a fine converter.
The temperature perpetrator.
Maintain those degrees down low.
So we can sit and listen to you, robot- as you breath sweetly.

Becoming whole

Full moon´s spreading.
Parting clouds with it´s illumination.
keeping rain storms at bay from leaky rooves.
Spelling words between it´s light.
It´s entourage of broken cloud surounding.
Sending stillness under it´s furry glow.
Spotlight in my garden at night.
Reflecting the sun´s progress on us all.
On us all.
A grand eye in the heavens recording and perhaps playing back our nocturnal indiscretions.
A pie less it´s edge.
Growing back like a amphibian limb.
Feel it forming.
By the time it arrives...
I´ll be infront of midnight´s pool ready to dive.

Jeremy ex con

Born in the bellows of confusion´s sea´s laughter!
Who knows where he will land, a damp cell perhaps a leaking limbo.
At night his subconscious revises his youth.
He dreams inside nightmare´s scaley crawling walls.
Once he´d roam the streets with a blade up his dirty sleeve.
Wrath in his face like a bad potatoe.
Fear in his lungs and his neck.
Confusion´s sea´s laughter, where breast milk and tenderness were absent.
Where lost souls helped to leverage themselves on their own self pity.
Hysterically laughing about the black hole they were knitting.
Those were Jeremy´s clothes holding his skinny droopy body.
He robbed the Polish conveniece shop in Ealing, even before his black eye had healed.
He picked a fight with a cop after he got caught for stealing.
Behind bars and guards,locks and gates, yearning to be free.
In his mind he keeps swimming in confusion´s sea.

Argue

The chest tightens.
Throat dries.
Lips tremble.
Shoulders tense up- crunch.
Sharp toothed words swim out into anger deep.
You wash up on the edge of hurtful shallows.
Back strains.
Lungs press.
Awful scream.
Hoarse and shaking-thus cruel silence.
Insult arrows, poison tipped.
Restless rage-thus thoughts of violence.
Cooks in your stomach.
Searing the insides,
blackening the heart.
Dread of us living together.
Slightly less than the fear of living apart.

Evicted

He was evicted.
Culture shock.
Abandoned, rejected.
Landlords quite brash. Car door slams!
Back home in korea, spoilt baby men.
North eastern Australia, a victim not worth saving.
He got wet and lost his toothbrush, whoosh.
He threw a wobbly, throbbing lull.
Culture clash.
Enraged, angered.
The landlords lashed out. Broom!
Must have been a long night with no bed to sleep in.

Spend it

For what I spend there´ll be alittle more for me.
Taxes what are they for? such an evil word.
Wanna find a paradise, where my credit flows like a waterfall ahhhh.
A bundle of notes I´ll unfold like a rainbow.
Not a nickle for the bum but a 100 note for the flame wooooohoooo.
I´ll buy like all the birthdays and xmas´s landed on the same chinese imports plane.
Shamelessly, i´ll pay a penny less on food and gas and what I please and deny the sorry pleas of overworked starving illegal refugees.
The cushions on my butt grew their through franchise fat food.
Well earned cussing, complaining and stuffing my mouth.
I spend it at the 7/11 and all the way down to midnight redlight profit to the pimp, right?
A middle finger to the rest of the world and a republican vote.
A middle finger to humanity,
and a republican vote.

Theatre

Hungry theatre.
Full of shoes and adolescent security guards.
Holding trudgeons and big mean grudges.
Exits were well attended.
Panic sprang, movie ended.
Shoes flew like missiles through a smokey theatre.
Screams and grunts like a circus creature.
Distracted guards didn´t catch me leaving.
Popcorn untouched, for raw riots they were eating!

Judge

You learn to judge.
Grow a crucifix.
Grow a purity, much purer.
A deeper understanding of everything.
Share it dogmatically.
You judge, you accuse.
 Not stopping.
Jesus said we shoud hate this...
Jesus said we should hate that...
How you´ll stand up for the lord where people have taken his name in vein. 
As if such power needed protecting by little ol you!
You´ll target the alternative thinkers, the nonconformers and the misunderstood,
Banishing them as not worthy of your heart´s glory, your god.
Yet you are the accuser,
You are the inquisitor.
Freak in sheeps clothing...
You are the Devil!
And from his trough you must feed pious, self righteous overfed drainer of world resources.
Yours has nothing near salvation, question your judgement of others.

Circle of life.

Come to me,
Captured by curiosity.
Prove me wrong and become a friend.
Sarcastic world.
Prove me wrong.
A carribean mystic,
I couldn´t prove him wrong.
Born again sufferer,
slave to the cleric´s songs.
Come to me layers of questioning.
What´s´under your shell,
inside your skull?
Awakening inquiry.
Seduction to philosophy.
Flesh is real, prove me wrong.
The spirit´s ephemeral, prove me wrong.
Words rush out of my mouth.
Your mouth´s a mirror, as we argue.
Haunt with blame, lack of understanding.
Perplexed through dogmas or opiates unknown.
Choice is choice wear your freewill.
With the ego in the middle, the circle of life was built for me and you.