Two Aging Truckers

A horse needs to run, a heart needs to bleed. An engine can't gain the miles if it's kept pristine.. If the view of change is constant just like I've been told is any back yard the boundless starts to all directions unknown..

Everybody Else

Don't tell me what to do. What to wear, what to say. Don't want to follow rules. Gonna do it my way. I've got a brain. I can think for myself. Don't wanna be like everybody else.

Go To Hell

Some people aren't cut out to be saints. And since I was born in original sin. Hedonism has a certain attraction. I think I'll cut the crap, cut out the middle man.

Traffic

Don't get mad at nothin'. (Anything) that passes by. Don't yank from the sky. You make up too many voices. Too many scenario's imaginari-OH!. Dreary load.

Boy Song

Hey, hello. How are you?. Whatever. Fine, I got a message for you. One two three four. . Try to look so cool in your skintight jeans. We all know how you act behind the scenes.

Toy Soldiers

Today I strike out on my own. The dog is dead, the kids have grown. I fell asleep in my writing chair. I dreamt, I'd found my childhood stare. . To family dinner Christmas night.

Genital Grinder

Barbie Eat A Sandwich

Make up, nose job, seven foot tall. Wears high heels but she never falls. No hopes, no dreams just one big smile. She's got no brains but she's got style.

Torn To Tattered

In a classroom somewhere alone. Looking at the window scene. Tune out the tutor in me. Sun is goin' down through the line of trees, I day dream. . And in my head I walk along.

Generation Hexed

(Music: Steer). (Lyrics: Walker). Lost forever. A whole generation of pathetic lost souls. With no meaning no depth. They're already dead, before it gets old.

To My Soul

Started out the same to Day Dreams. afloat the Mothering Sky. Peering out, miming hope with my face. Float me high, hot air balloon. To high, high to touch.

Frenzied Detruncation

Limb from limb.... Curled glands.... Hacked giblets.... Stumps for hands.... . Limb from bloody limb. . Ruptured spleen.... Rancid loin.... Shattered ribs....

Forensic Clinicism / The Sanguine Article

Salutiferous exaltation, through fusty spatterings I sift,. Cauterizing proud flesh, pyogenic cortex I just yearn to rip,. With impalpable, cathartic tools, dilapidated lusts I gratify,.

This Is My Song!

My name is Luck, this is my song. I happened by when you were gone. Oh well I apologize that I could not stay. But I hope good things swing your way. I know they will, here's your horseshoe.

Foeticide

Plugged into the socket. Leads attached to twisting skin. Ignite the squirming foetus. To dissolve it from within. . The uterus aspirated...foeticide.

This Is How I Feel

You are too nice for your own good some people say.. You should just speak your mind and you could have your way.. Well, I wish I could,. And perhaps I should..

The War Was In Color

I see you've found a box of my things. Infantries, tanks and smoldering airplane wings. These old pictures are cool, tell me some stories. Was it like the old war movies?.

Firmhand

(Music: Steer). (Lyrics: Walker). Firmhand, iron fist, an ardent dexterous weeding process. Overlord with a strong grip, viral containment, a harvesting grid.

The Boxer

Couldn't ask for a better day, two by two. To the ring to the right point of view. Each retreat to the corner that's defined by you. To the ring to the right point of.

Festerday

Tear out your intestines. Cut your liver into two. Throttle your heart. Till it's swollen and blue. . Puncture your flesh. Skewer your eyes. Leave you to fester.