Evil People
Evil people make the ruts. Along with this they
have no guts. Always telling other's no! Themselves
not knowing where to go. Among their favorite words
are can't and don't and should have. Their pasts
are exposed in their eyes looming like the grave.
If looks could kill-and they do- then evil people
kill more than a few. They have not time for
kindness to their fellows. With pen in hand,
they will stand by the inventions of new gallows.
Most times they will not follow, the basic
golden rule, and live their lives, revenge in
mind to make their fellow a basic fool.
Evil people get off on pain. Mostly that of others.
They wouldn't mind if you were blind or
bleeding if they had their druthers. Evil
people refuse to wear their heart upon their
sleeve. And then they cry the tears of crocs.
This is how they grieve.
Evil people never really win the game at hand.
Though they may seem to have their way,
their house is made of sand. It will wash
away as many do upon the shore of
dreams.
So evil people's lives aren't really what they seem.
So these people will not change , don't waste
your time upon them trying. Or you may
end up a lifeless self aboard the
ship of dead and dying.
Car World
We live in a car world
a brick world
a glass world
a far world
away from me
We live in a broke dream
a smoke screen
awake me
oh friend i can't see
i wanted to touch you
to hold you
to heal you
but they took you
away from me
Maybe i'll wake up
maybe i'll take up
my courage
again someday
But today it's a car world
a brick world
a glass world
a way to be
Song
of Pleasure
I'm a cell. I'm a video recording. I'm
a shell, because it pleases him and
may as well. I was falling, but I picked up
my feet. I heard a calling. I was afraid
to retreat.
So when you open up the metal door
and slam it in my face. It's the only way
you can ignore the fallen human race.
I'm a sin. I'm a supermarket bottle. Pizza
tin,
because it pleases him. So let me win.
I was stalling but I picked up the beat.
The cadence falling. Sure I was brave
to repeat.
So when you empty out the quiet halls
and put youir fears to bed, it's the
only way the teardrops fall down
from my lonely head.
I'm a top. I'm a black conveyer belt.
A dirty mop, because it pleases him.
Don't want to stop. I was in the hall, my
knees were on the ground. They watched
me fall. I didn't make a sound.
So when you pour your filthy, bastard
smoke into your only sky. It's the only
way you'll ever look the bastard
in the eye.
I'm a joke. I'm a civil service test. Don't
count , I'm broke. Because it pleases him.
Just watch the smoke. The bed which teases
them.
I'm an astrologic piece of an astrologic
pie. Supersonic grease for a
supersonic lie. So if the psycho-drama
super group should learn the truth,
get the scoop.
It pleases him. It pleases him. It pleases
him.
Oh Brave
New World
Oh brave new world,
dost not
thou know. There
among the winds
did go. A spectre
who marched in
dark parade, more than
any brave parade.
Oh hungry orb that
spins the sun.
For all her children
are undone. No
mercy would she show
me for mercy
that I gave.
Silent and slow who
could perceive came
the quiet,
lustless blow.
Oh fire sky, not one
dare say,
how tomorrow brought
today.
Though many go on speaking
still
of the lifetime they
will fill.
Oh lone affair has
brought the
hand to hide the eyes
of those
who stand, in the way,
or in the
path of paradise and
helpless wrath.
