Cats and Dogs Standing by high and dry at the calvary parking lot. This isn't really something that I thought I sought. A fight that I never really fought. Treat me like a draft doge it's just a thought.  The matches in the left. The fluid in the right. Drink it down till you swear you feel alright. Then through up to the beat of the music. This is your que burn it and abuse it.  Do you only feel, lucid when asleep. Some kind of fucked up counter point dream. Never have I felt this unclean. But I swear to god I won't be redeemed.  And in the midst of this unbearable heat. The obscure plane ride will act on your fantasies. Every last one of those fucked up fantasies.  MUSICAL  BREAK  for  4 progressions  (come in soft) But I love that cringing feeling of your gut hitting the ceiling. But as do the cops as they pull out their glocks. Thus I'm a terrible fucking example of someone you should sample for change.  But it's always the same. The greed it will never drain. Make your small claims and suck dick for fame. But I'm starting to realize why all my heroes were so ashamed.  Why they were self-loathing. God why they were overdosing. Why they're eyes we're always slowly closing. But I think I'm off a little better. Cuz I swear I'd respond to the letters.  [no colors] But please don't fret. Nor get to upset. On second thought I wouldn't really mind it. But how dare you look back at me. Keep you head straight or you could stare at your feet.  And I know it didn't matter. You'll climb that backwards ladder. But honestly I can't stand this fucked up satire.

The sound of mind people are pretending they’re dark. But I promise you that they’d be invited to the ark. I think I might be invited to the ark. I think I might be left in the rain, but that’s okay. Now just because you add a little to much shade and the contrast you claim is meant to depict hate. It’ doesn’t mean a single fucking thing, I swear. Stop acting like you care. Well if you think of it as controversial then it’s probably just stereotypical. It’s reciprocal. Is the questionable behavioral process that goes through your mind when scribbling on the page. now what do you say when she’s begging to talk, and you’re in the middle of some fucked up thoughts, telling you it’s okay to manipulate just because you feel the need to be entertained never looked so faint. feeling much heavier. is it that much healthier to shut off and stop. someone get the mop because they are bleeding all over the floor again. and now we’re at the time when the ink has dried and the pen is dead just like your eyes. and i began to claw out mine, just to cover up those stupid lies. fuck. i hope you’re staring at the wall. i hope nobody will fucking call. i hope you never quite figure out who you really are. i hope you’re no longer this bullshit start i’ve given up and i’m proud. if you spit like you lied then i’d fucking drown. you’re all just a bunch of burnt out clowns. i’m so glad i’ve fallen out. and would you even make a sound without a doubt. without a doubt.

LAST PAGE | Dm7 | Am7 | C | Am7 | | 2 7 | 6 | 1 | 67 | Last page. Tell me again I want to hear the complaints ring. The poor speech, I’ve begun to believe it gets me going. The keys they are nothing and the pens a broken sword. I’m convinced the caffein it isn’t working anymore. But what is it that lurking under the raspy voice and long fingers, says the tortured product pop singer. Unapproachable is the writing. And language uncomfortable. But thank god for the prescriptions above your bathroom table. The stable religious process and reoccurring word choice. God does it feel terrible that I’m lacking the void that all great artist seem to poses. It’s inescapable. But I’m the one who’s blamable. The ER wishes they are finally explainable. Arms crossed waiting for the sweat on the doc’s brow. Stuttering his words as he looks down. But they were always okay. A quick prayer everybody would say. The wife, she sang. While 50% looked away. However it was never enough. But who would ever want to be content. Why else would would the sleeves be lacking, You want everybody to see. I treat my friends as if an experiment in sociology. Note the sad eyes, and white lies. Who could honestly deny? Those manipulative brown eyes.

All along and all these thoughts they've been ringing in my mind. Oh god I've wished that they would die in the hospital nights. And when I hear the cries I smirk and I fake a sigh. But it's alright. It'll always be alright. Your teeth. How they bother me. And your skin. Holy fuck I hope it rips. And this stupid shit. The Little fits are getting on my nerves. But I know. This is still much more than I deserve. And when will I learn to censor myself. When I speak I can't help but let out the darkest things. So I might as give up my speech I'm sure someone's in greater need of it. And now. Now my body sits. And my mind it wonders out of it. I think I've reached enlightenment in this fast food chain. Never have I felt more sane. No I don't want any change. Keep it all the same. Please keep it all the same. And it's not that I'm unhappy. But god damn it am I guilty. Just like all the rest of you. And your supervisors too. And I know it's pretty crude. But you fucks are pretty rude. We're just trying to entertain you. But I'm no artist. I'll never be an artist. I know that I've started it but I fucking hope I finish it. But thats just a wish but that means much more than you're shit promises. But I know I can take it. now I know I can take it. I’ll stick a steak into the ground. With your rotting head right over it. Under your favorite crown. Oh I hope drown. Under the screams and sounds. Luckily I'm home bound. I was known as lost and found. But now I'm just this fucking clown. Is that okay? It's not dismay just a whiney little complaint. I don't know if theres much more I want to say.

all my friends are drug addicts all my friends are drug addicts but im not a drug addicts so i got left behind

Key of Bb:     | 5 add 11 | 2M #5 7 | 3 sus4 6 | 6 sus4 add11|  | Fm add 11 | C #5 7 | Em sus4 6 | Gm sus4 add11|  Well it sounds so good. I never thought it would. I never knew that I could react like that. One step forward and I move back, what the fuck is it that I attract. I didn't say a word. Something was misheard, oh but I wish it weren't. I really wish it weren't.  He had a long beard. A bag on his back a voice like a baseball bat crack. He's the one in the corner of your eyes at night. With the iodine pills and the rags that could kill. But even still. Light your fucking cigarette. It's the only thing that'll clear your dizzy head.  Now he's pulled out the methadone its not his own. It's shared amongst the disowned. The tension has grown. He mentioned his home I told him listen man I really oughta go. And I walked off didn't dare stop. Saw myself a bitch cop, but thought: what's the point.(two progressions) Musical break/build up Now as I walk through that fucking door. There laying on the floor. And he comes down to me from the stares with a knife in his teeth and they bleed on his beard it's as red as could be. And he drops to his knees as he looks up and pleads and says oh god, I'm so sorry.  And he's trembling and begging. Hands unsteady but I'll show no mercy, not at all. He'd try to stall. Blame it on the medication, that he hadn't taken but I won't take it. I'll pace the halls, falls though the walls and let out the most turbulent  Silent scream that you've ever seen. You won't believe what I can come up with in these day dreams. It's obscene but it never happens. Not yet. No not yet. 

The Stork It’s the cheap rendition of blaring horns and jabbing snares. It’s the blood red lipstick, and hair twirling towards the northern stairs. It’s the self obsession, and advertisement, that insults today’s cultural narcissism. It’s the burning of flesh and half way attempts of death, but realistically resulting in hyperbolized incest. It’s the corporate backing of civili servants, and media manipulation. While pretending to care about the holocaust towards the violent youth. It’s the back in forth pacing, wide eyed miserable contemplating, or subtle flash backs more common amongst the swollen crowds. It’s the condescending tones. wish raised expectations. It’s the the proud procrastination, the boasting of being mindless. The criticism designed for our philosophers. It’s not being able to admit to the thoughts suppressed and condensed till they eventually erupt in a psychopathic midlife crisis. It’s the thick coat of external hair on the anorexics arms. It’s the worship of soft core drugs am porn and a religion better made for us. It’s the over held embrace. The dependence on others. It’s the purest purest form of limerence. It’s the the kid’s writing in corners. The drawings in the notebooks. It’s the heroin shooting activist who preach correctly but act on nothing at all. It’s the the school girl masturbators in parked cars, or track stars. It’s the motivational speakers who in reality are Satan in his greatest disguise. It’s the fear of communist dreams, LSD idea, and the occupation of the universities. But I. Nor you am any different. The simple fact that we are aware is resulting in the narcotic, neurotic, narcissistic future artist. I am you, you are I. We are a whole. It’s one ruined fucking collective.

Writers always seem to be writing about other writers.  God I wish I could fight it but I fear I'm slipping down the same path.  Am I just another narcissism fan.  Hiding behind a vocabulary and an superficial education.  And a little symbolism. Because how could I expose myself so easily. How could any of us. Instead we blame what we call society. We are society. And tell the sweaty walking disgust that the American dream is waking up.  There's something to discuss.  because your synthetics aren't actually punk. What the fuck.  I didn't think it'd mean that much. I didn't really think the Catholic would bleed so much. Does this make sense to anyone else.  The repetition seems to just melt. Are these the crude words I should have dealt. Instead of other blatant blunt growls spewing from my mouth. But I don't regret it not a doubt. But this doesn't mean You can compress me  to an abbreviation completely lacking a meaning. It's fucking demeaning.  the walls of this country are all fucking falling. we ask so many questions but our leaders keep stalling the youth keeps on turning from god and we're earning the contingent status of unnecessary baptists but how can we stop? the brutality cops. with their stun guns and glocks. causing anyone to drop this silence you seem to hear from lean constitutional rules that seems to drown in the pools of suburban households. with their termites and mold and their never growing old because their children are sold to the violence of life, with towel and a knife. its not the same old ways its just a shame.

Anti-Nazi Pogo Party |Gm|Bb|Eb|D| My flailing decree of your xanax and speed. Has brought me alive and back on my feet. Your silence is gone but you speak with concrete evidence of my lack of your crude response.  Your not off so bad and your life it is great, but still you expect to be sprinkled with hate. And oh how you cry and oh how you plead. But I'll never give in and I'll never be free.  We're filled with this angst. But haven't got time, to care for the law of even Finish the crime. We've paved a new road of the old and the sick. And we're watching the time as it falls and it slips.  You never fucking thought that you'd be screaming stop as you hear those ropes cut. Oh god. It didn't mean a lot please speak to me not. Another anonymous note dropped.  Another lonely night. You've gone dry as you hear these horses cry  Walking through these non lucid  sights. I thought I might help but I'm no fucking knight. And yet again you just sigh.  Staring at me as I open the door. My eyes quickly look straight to the floor. The murmurs of affront still lingering in your breath. But you’re just a another stupid fucking prick. The Christian Collisionist are all fucking imperialist. Go ahead follow them you mindless sheep. And if any real logic begins to seep yours be called out for blasphemy.

C. Am Oh lucifer my boy. Oh lucifer my brother F. G You tainted Christ with those hands and gave Adam a lover C. Am Oh I understand your struggle. I understand your pain F. G You left the heavens with a cause and got struck down in vein C. Am No God wasn't half happy and he was not yet half mad F. G But one thing that I know is that he sure can start a fad C. F You know religions just a trend. Everything will just start to blend Am. G Like the words are all a single one. Next thing you know your life is done C. F You just get to the promised land And your soul they will reprimand Am. Cdim And then right after that... Your in hell. (Dramatic pause) (Play next part calmly like beginning) C. Am Oh lucifer my son. Oh lucifer my father F. G. You brought humans the gun and then you threw in the lager C. Am But then god took them for a ride He shot the gun and jobs son died. (Gets intense) F. He took his land. He shook his house G He made him cry. He made him shout (Even more intense) C I prayed to you when I was down F You kept me safe gave me a crown Am now I'm a king My life is spared G. C And Its all because... the devil cared.