She was talking to God

Behind the couches where everyone hides their guns 

A little girl sits, talking to god on the telephone 

She never told me what he said, but I’ll tell you what she heard 

Comfort is not his product, the bible is not his words 

He never sacrificed anything for the world except his sanity 

The Suffering we endure was caused by our own hands 

This she told me, with an honest expression 

I asked this girl, would she take my confession 

She told me the only sin I’d ever committed 

Was thinking that god wasn’t a part of me 

Created in his image, everyone is a deity 

Mere Existance

The collective morality of the masses masquerading as law 

Controlling and eliminating personal freedoms one by one 

Causing everyone to adopt the status quo or face the consequences 

The minority of true individuals, slowly losing self respect and ambition 

Due in part to an undercurrent of attrition grinding away at free thought 

Living in a world saturated by images of superficial perfection invading the minds of the most

easily persuaded, and a slow rotting of the will to resist 

Collectively controlling our perception of beauty and greatness 

Ideas and opinions issued like rations to feed the sheep’s massive desire for acceptance 

Ignorant repetition of the issued opinions infecting the young, leaving them with an infantile 

mindset for the duration of their mainstream existence. 

Underground talent turned into censored conformed multi platinum sales pitches 

Big business raping spontaneous culture, flooding the system with weak individuals ready to

pick up the latest party line. 


The lives of millions condensed into a mere existence devoid of beauty but filled with trivial sensations and instant gratification. 

I want to live. 

Not merely exist. 

Spiral Kiss

Prehistoric pretenses metamorphic defenses surrounding the collective feces rotting in your mind 
Rain relentless engraved remission attacking superimposed destruction, you see I take what is mine 
Corpses piling up so high we are making houses out of them, and the rain comes down until the end of time 
Naked, your soul was raped as an infant and now you get to pick up the pieces 
I swear to you god loves Reese’s more than Klondike, but your going to have to die to know who’s right 
And your shit out of luck if god isn’t real, how would that make you feel? I think pointless is the word 
I really shouldn’t tell you, but I’ll let you in on a secret 
all this life is, is god taking a massive shit 
Call me pessimistic, call me a nihilist 
But the world is ruled by the gun and fist 
Tuesday night, the time is right, drunk with 3 lost fights SO SUCK MY this 
isn’t exactly what it seems, but the way I pray on the rainy days 
is lost in this 
spiral kiss 

Colorful Like Crazy

Dope got us nowhere but old 

Our souls got us nothing but sold 

Let go of the pop culture you hold 

In such high esteem 

The popularity you earned for giving up on your dream 

Turning your life from something beautiful into something obscene 

Dive head first into the cesspool and forget not to breath 

Neon black, monochromatic like normality 

Trading originality for this flatland mentality 

Ignore the reality surrounding your fantasy 

I’m sorry if this compromises your conformity 

If you need to get back, just listen to the man on TV 

A realist isn’t a pessimist, save your cynical judgments for some one who cares 

All you get from me is fuck you hidden inside my blank stare 

Q&A

there are the days you’ll always remember 
the days your years catch up to you 
and you learn the 
questions to the 
answers you found 
the reality 
that life is simply 
living 
changing 
growing into 
being yourself 
finding yourself 
finding the answers 
to the question 
finding the question 
in the answer 

what do you live for?

The Grass is Always Greener on the Other Pesticide

Time being relative 

So I bend it and send it 

On it’s way with an expletive 

Relating to the flow of water pouring 

From heaven’s lips 

Subjective slow dances and missed chances 

Lost in a spiral kiss 

Ability returning to feed a stomach churning 

Satisfied my mind searching for truth 

Sad laughter floating over tiny children with a knack for identifying the misconstrued 

Thirsty words missing the point so I gave them juice 

Cleaning the evil resident still lingering in the residue 

While 

Fate was eliminating the possibility of too soon 

Shooting for the stars, we crash and burn on the moon 

Sipping on petals, tripping over freckles, stirred my soul made of metal 

Adopting orphaned identities like Victorian opera masks floating down from above 

Over-priced black market obscenities had you thinking that you tricked love 

With happiness in the crook of his arm 

Diseased confusion in his heart 

Lost in the bottle, finding the end 

He finally made it back to the start 

What I am

 
a chaotic sequence 
of perception 
feeling and thought 
are but 
impressions 
ever elusive 
ideas of 
sensation 
a persisting identity 
through time 
explored through 
reflection 
insight is abstract 
fundamentally biased 
depending on my 
definition