Book Of Bot

He's a wretch and. Like all the rest he thinks. There's time to make trouble. And time to make a mess. . He says. "Punch in, automate. Stomp on, stamp out".

One Man's Fear

<the scratch, the bass, the couger's in your face,. The king of the beats gonna rock the place>. <when you speak of blues this is a man that knows. That a is never z... ? ? ? >.

Backbones Of Jack Asses

Aotkpta

Ideological leper, newly planted tower. Grows from the ground and spills its guts out on the sidewalk. Pseudo politico, flat talk o'clock. Rolls past the site of a flesh insurrection.

Nightime Story

Bombers rip across the screen. Layin' waste to city's dreams. . And what's it all gonna mean. When audio psychosis builds from the speakers cones. And you can hear the music tear.

Anything Jesus Does I Can Do Better

Everyday I add to the list of people. who can kiss my ass. and imagine Mr. W. sucking the fuck out of it.. . What is your astrological sign?. Stop. Stop!.

Kasparov's Revenge

Scraping the skylines with hypnotic observations. Swooping and surfing over lyrical substations. Embrace the flame again and again. Like passion and pain hand in hand with each other.

An Extra Piece Of Dead Meat

I Used To Fall In Love

Brutal, beautiful. Strung out, hung out. Screaming sirens, scryscraper coffins. Shambolic, chaotic. Computer boffins. . Strip-tease, traffic lights. Cut throat beer fights.

Alas, Here Come The Hypochondriacs To Wait With You In The Lobby

Drained blood from your own spine in a trophy.. Dead skin cells drip charity crumbs.. Biting the hand that feeds,. Deemed an unhealthy meal.. When slipping on someone else's elbow grease,.

How To Operate With A Blown Mind

Never ride the lonely road, above all, at sundown. For dusk is when the little men melt into the mountains. Melt into the mountains. Melt into the mountains.

Cattleprod

Blow my mind up. For a hundred choose your lovers. The high times go down. When you're waitin for another. . Cuss your mind back. Rememberin' the city.

Who Wants A Dose Of The Clap?

No man of cloth. -gonna go through my wallet. No mercenary. -gonna make CIA. . ...mash. ...food-on the few remaining molars. ...hear. ...flies-steaks are cooking, come inside.

Battleflag

Your construction. Smells of corruption. I manipulate to recreate. This air to ground saga. Gotta launder my karma. . I said hallelujah to the sixteen loyal fans.

Wet-nurse Syndrome Hand-me-down Display Case

Passed down, tuned in, turned on, face down.. Loose screws swallowed sometimes stick out.. Stomach acid exceeding blood,. Victory factory all tapped-out..

Wet Dream War Machine

Stop talking politics. Rephrase, Rephrase. Hibernating phantom friend. Witness, Witness. . There's a hotbed of isms around here. . All hail the chopper,.

Well I'll Be A Monkey's Uncle

We Have Reached An Officialverdict: Nobody Gives A Shit

Belching into the atmosphere, new erections still the same as those filthy fucking old ones.. Now its known there is no heaven on this shore or. any other damn shore for that matter..

Twenty-three Lubed Up Schizophrenics With Delusions Of Grandeur

Seemed like the right thing to do at the time. but Dr. quackenfish is in the driver's seat now.. . Aesthetically pleased to the point of ambivalence..

Twenty-three Full-time Cowboys