Dumping gutter shit into a cyclone
of intellect and hitting puree.
It's what we do!
Pouring margaritas with that slop.
Man, it's sick:
Highway overpasses (enough)
Street names (irrelevant)
And some fascination with Summer and Fall at
the same time, I really don't know.
Must be something about dying.

But I think I lost the nudge while being forced on a
table and I know I lost the dominance when I
let them make a wide cut in my neck.
Almost choked on my Adam's apple, I did.
The cut was their own plans.
But when the carnevorous gape sprouted nuts and
bolts and started shooting lasers,
that was my own doing.
And what marvelous fun that shit was:
Being rushed to the front of lines.
Taking whatever I wanted from Grocer's.
Forcing girls to go down on me.
I even gave myself a clever nickname -


We burned everything related to Science.
The Museum of National Science.
The Science Emporium.
The University of Medical Science.
The Christian Science Foundation.
I swear to God I believe I even saw a girl making
love to a dog amidts the fuck drunk power.
John Grisham novels are written with the screenplay in mind,
and I like to believe that my pillages of back-fucked
villages would become a massive testament of the times.

Believe in star-gazers like myself.
We have a song to sing and a set of ears to bring it to.
We have all the clouds and Koopa shells you
could ever want, and if you don't know,
I'll guide your delicate hands on how to throw them.
You could cause a pile-up.
We could cause a pile-up.
We're all angels baby, we just haven't died yet.
So enjoy the time spent, or whatever time I allow
your pretty little head to have.
I just hope Medical Science can cure you.
Poor advice.
Nice, I actually really like this piece.
I'm assuming it's poetry rather than lyrics.
I love the language used, it's harsh yet displays a sense of intellect needed to make the writing effective. Kudos to you.
The will to neither strive nor cry,
The power to feel with others give.
Calm, calm me more; nor let me die
Before I have begun to live.

-Matthew Arnold

Arguments are to be avoided; they are always vulgar and often convincing.