 Leave by Irwin I'm not entirely sure why travel appeals to me. Travel is such a lonely pastime. Travel is silence amongst noise, anonymity in the masses, self reliance in an age of dependence. Travel is feed yourself or starve, fulfillment in an empty life. To travel is to abscond career-drudgery, daily death, the well-beaten path of souls who have lost themselves to the hollow dreams of conformity. What is most important about travel is not where you will go, but rather where you have been. Leaving is beautiful; insightful, final. Leaving allows one to shed fear of honesty, hesitation of sincerity. It is one moment of perfect clarity; emotions have depth, words have weight. Leaving is the best I'll have, and it will never be this good again. Travel is my vice. Willard Rant I know shit about chastity. I can maintain an appearance of sympathy. I don't know what I want. You don't know what you want. We wake to watch ourselves sleeping. Does it hurt to look at her? Fat, ugly, cow. Does it hurt? Do you hurt like she does? Do you know what pain is? Do you know loss? Do you have simple desires like she does? Are you alone? I am the laughmaker, watch me dance. I whore around the room to get a laugh. I sell my soul to be loved. I'd sell my mother and two virgins for fame. I want to be the one, you know? The one they can't live without. I want to be this little fucking prima donna flitting about and imagining I'm making your outlook better. Your day better. Your life better. I can make you see better. Your time'll be better with me. And she. She just wants to have a moment of solace to collect her thoughts. A comfortable place where she can be alone and enjoy the one familiarity she has left in life. She wants this because I have ignored her and everyone like her my whole life. I'd destroy every remnant of human beauty, of social acceptance. I'd burn everything I created to be vain just to see her smile. She's the best person I've met in this cespool. I don't even deserve to live in her presence. |
THREAD by Mr. Schweenie When I was younger, my mother bought a lot of socks for us. They were ten for a dollar. We had a lot of them for a while. They were various shades of puke-green, mottled brown or orange. I wore them for years, washing them, again and again, dozens of pairs hung from make shift clotheslines in my bedroom. I used to hate those socks. But life was cleaner then, I was a boy and didn't know. We'd go hiking at strange night hours. I worked in an orchard, watering it in mornings or on brisk moonlit cricket nights with coyote yaps, toads billowing at silvery clouds, red plateaus and distant highway lights. Many nights were spent in our steam bath, musty walls held out the world and held in the universe. Honest thoughts, simple truths and sweat flowed while we discussed leaving to a better life. I left for that better life. Now my socks are white cotton. They are softly cushioned and more expensive but I got them with my own money. I don't hike anymore, it's been years since I have set foot in an orchard. My nights consist of drinking, smoking and writing. The better life is wearing a tie, working six days a week, paying 27% taxes and re-parking my car every two hours to avoid a ticket. Steam baths are now too hot for me. I see junkies still trying to get off of speed. It is cold and gray every day, I want only what I had. I'd give almost anything for one more summer in those socks of puke-green, mottled brown, or orange. Words and Music by Steve Taylor I'd gone through so much other stuff that walking down the aisle was tough but now I know it's not enough I want to be a clone I asked the Lord into my heart they said that was the way to start but now you've got to play the part I want to be a clone Be a clone and kiss conviction goodnight cloneliness is next to Godliness, right? I'm grateful that they show the way 'cause I could never know the way to serve him on my own I want to be a clone They told me that I'd fall away unless I followed what they say who needs the Bible anyway? I want to be a clone Their language it was new to me but Christianese got through to me now I can speak it fluently I want to be a clone Send in the clones Ah, I kind of wanted to tell my friends and people about it, you know What? You're still a babe you have to grow give it twenty years or so 'cause if you want to be one of his got to act like one of us So now I see the whole design my church is an assmebly line the parts are there I'm feeling fine I want to be a clone I've learned enough to stay afloat but not so much I rock the boat I'm glad they shoved it down my throat I want to be a clone Everybody must get cloned |
