No More

How many of you
have a problem with where this country is going?
What it's doing?
Don't raise your hands now
it won't make a difference.
You know what you should do
instead of shouting "Yea!"
or anything else.
Go out and fight.
And I don't mean with your fists
or guns
or bats
or knives.
I mean with your heads.
Hit them where it hurts most.
Make others see them
as the villains they are.
How do you do that?
Well, think about it.
When was the closest
this country has ever come
to a revolution?
The 1970's.
They fought
not with weapons
but with peace.
And when others saw the riot police
beating teenagers down
who were armed with nothing but flowers
people understood what this country had come to.
Unfortunately, the New Deal stopped that.
But now we need to do it again.
I'm tired of hearing people complain
and complain
about what's wrong with our government
and society
but they don't suggest any radical changes.
yes, radical changes.
Because that's what this country needs.
Radical change.
We can no longer rely on the old theory of
"use the system to fight the system"
because the system is fixed, and not in our favor.
You know how we need to fight?
We gather.
Because we have the numbers.
And we all stop fueling
THEIR terror
THEIR weapons
THEIR war.
That's right.
I'm saying that we
ALL stop paying taxes
and we ALL stand in the street
and see what they do.
What can they do?
They can't arrest ALL of us!
They can't kill ALL of us!
We are the people
and WE have the power,
something those bureaucratic
assholes seem to have forgotten.
so I say
I say we remind them.
Remind them what this once
great nation was founded on.
Not fear and government power
that's fascism
it was founded on Justice
on Liberty
on FREEDOM
and that's what we need
that's what we must fight for.
We can't cower in fear any longer.
You say you go to protests?
good for you.
They AUTHORIZE those protests!
When in HISTORY did an AUTHORIZED
protest work?
You're telling me we have to ASK them
if it's okay to object to what they're doing?!
NO!
I say we go out there and protest
and not give a damn what they have to say about it.
and if they arrest us all, fine
but soon they will realize,
that there's too many of us to control
and we will, once again, have the power.
what we do then?
well, that's not my decision to make.
this country was founded on Democracy
and it will be, not just mine, but all of our decisions to make.
Long Live Freedom!

Coming Clean

I am, amongst many things, a poet.
I write poetry for love
for loss
for laughter
for fun
and for... whatever.
Well this time is different.
This time
This time I'm writing for me.

I know I'm melodramatic
and as I feel my heart ache
others look in contempt
as though I am a liar
a faker
an "attention-seeker"
Well,
I have lied
and I have faked
and I have sought attention.
But nonetheless
I still feel this pain in my soul
and I know
somewhere within the depths
of my subconscious
that the only person
who can fix this pain
this agony
this self-degradation
and lack of self-value
...
is me.
So I plan to do it.

I am a son.
I am his son.
And though years have gone by
since he acknowledged it
I know he loves me.
I just know it.
I won't go into how I know
or why I know
I just do.
And as I say this,
I can't help but think
of all the times I've buried my head
into the soft hold
of someone close to me
and cried and cried
and asked why he didn't care
why he wanted me gone
why he hated me.
And it makes me hate myself
... more anyway...
Because I know if he had heard
if
if he had heard what I said.
that he didn't care
wanted me gone
HATED me
well,
he would hate himself
and he would cry.
And for so long
I told myself I hated him
I couldn't bare his existence
I know
I couldn't live without him
Not now.
Because I need to know
even if it isn't obvious
I need to know he's there
and that he loves me
just as much as I love him
or else all those things he's said
that I'm a disappointment
a disaster
a...
a failure...
they would all be true.
But they're not
even as I say it, I don't believe it
So I find myself repeating it like a mantra
I'm not
I'm not
I'm not
I'm not
I'm not a disappointment
I'm not a disaster
I am NOT a failure

I am a poet
And this one's for me.

The Drunken Banter

The boy spoke softly
his cherry lips
rendered me completely helpless
and as I staggered towards the light
I could not rid myself
of the broken player
stuck on a vinyl of his gentle words.
I finally reached the illuminated doors
-bathed in the harsh glow
of the red exit sign above them-
and stumbled into the alleyway.

I didn't know where I was,
and frankly, did not care.
It was night and the street was empty.
The boy followed me
his steps unwavering
trailing my drunk meandering.

I don't know who he was
or who he is
and only truly know
that he evoked from me
such sadness as I had not yet known.

The boy was dead,
my memory is now a poem,
my poem a eulogy.

The Testament Pt. II

I am 18
going on 19
going on to the rest of my life

and they say that you need college
to keep from being a failure

they say you need college
to succeed in this country.

they say you need college
to be anything in this world.

Well,
they're wrong.
the government is wrong.
my old school is wrong.
my parents are wrong.

No, I am not going to college
and I am not a fucking failure.
I am not a loser
and above all else
I am not a statistic.

I am a living human being
who is going to make a difference
in this world.

I am going to fight to become
whatever it is I want to become
and nothing
not even a lack of a college degree
is going to stop me.

This is a testament
this is my testament
stating that anyone who wants
to be something they aren't yet
has all the time in the world to become that
stating that no matter who you are
or what you have done
it's never too late
to be someone else
to become something great

So, yea.
I do see the difference
between not having gone to college
or not having a job and being a good person
someone who helps others
and changes lives for the better
and
having gone to college
or having a job and being
a complete and utter douche bag...
a waste of human life...
a detriment to society...

Listen.
this goes out to everyone
who wants to give up.
Everyone who,
much like me a month or so ago,
thinks they'll never be able
to do something worth while
with their lives.
this goes out to those people.
and this is me saying
yes you can.

Beaten Up Chucks (Original)

Beaten up chucks
on a downtown street
smoke in the air
looks like lies and deceit
got a chain hangin'
from his right side
the expression on his face
is like somebody died
and his footsteps fall
like battle drums
and as he walks
he hears the sky hum
"Children he's the one
that your momma told you 'bout
he's the one to be scared of
he's the one you should doubt"
but he walked anyway
and he looked straight ahead
'cause if the sky was right
he'd already be dead
and he was as alive
as he had ever been
the stereotypes fell
to let his true colors win.

I believe her (every time)

I have a girl and she says
she will love me forever
and I believe her
every time

it's not for no reason though
it's not out of blind faith or nothin'
it's because when she looks me in the eyes
I see the girl I've been looking for
and now I just want more

and every day that we're together
I'm reassured I'll love her forever
and I know that it's
for real.

Her name is lauren and she's my girl
she's pretty, no she's beautiful
and wonderful
and she is the world to me

Every time I see her face
it makes me want to leave this place
and run away, run away
with her

If it was up to me
I would be at the best place to be
which is right by her side

'cause I have a girl and she says
that she will love me forever
and I believe her
every time.

Becoming Who You Are

Is it too much to ask
to go into my past
and take apart the things
that made me
who I am?

I once told a friend of mine
it's better to live than die
and now I'm standing on the edge
of life and
what's beyond...

I need to know
what's past here
whether it's
something I should fear
or if it's something
I have known
all along.

And if it's God
that I must face
I will not be one to pray
for forgiveness because
I believe
in what I've done.

My time has come and past
and let me tell you: make it last
Now I know for sure that you should
live with no
regrets...

When you are where I am
I should hope you'll
take a stand
against what your told
and what you
really know.

Baby Girl (a song w/chords)

Em
Baby, I know what it is
G
you want from me
Am
It seems so hard to see
C D
I don't know what to be, yea
Em G
What is it that I'm doin'?
Am
I'm running from the government
C D
I don't know what is true and
Em G
someday we'll get married
Am
outside of the states
C D
you know that I can't wait, yea
Em
Tell me
G
what you are thinking
Am
What's running through your mind?
C D
you know I've got the time, yea
Em G
Baby girl, you're the one for me
Am
It's not hard to believe
C D
it's only you I want to see, yea

Home.

Cremated in a house fire
the arsonist got away
but still, I am left in agony
lying in my chair
-the worst place to lie-
lying to myself
about the validity
of statements left unsaid
and yet I am dead
not in a morbid way either
but in a more
optimistic
point of view

they're so invalid
now that I think about it
-points of view, that is-
I mean, what truth
does a point of view hold?
none is the answer.
but merely an opinion
traced to the eye of the beholder.
The fact of the matter is,
no matter what
no point of view is correct
necessarily
merely percieved as correct
by whomever
carries said point of view.
No matter
how much I think I'm right
the likelihood
of me actually being right is slim to none.

I just want this shit to go away.
I want to be somewhere
where people care about other people.
Where feelings of love and compassion
reciprocate amongst everyone.

I don't care anymore
I hate this... this hate
it's stupid
it's childish
it's unnecessary
I just want to be alone again.
God I never thought I'd say that
EVER.
But it's true.
No one here cares about me like she does
like they do
back at the place I belong.
My real home away from home.
Although, in actuality, it isn't really
a "home away from home"
because I never had a home to begin with.
It's my home. Period.

Puppet

Bullets ricoche
in empty hallowed halls
no one hears
when the poor girl calls
to god
there was no one and nothing
beckoning to her
she had no hope left to refer
to her weary heart
and her mind
she was all too kind
to those who betrayed her
Again, she prayed
to the one who segregtaes her
from society
when no one answered
while she was on her knees
it was far too easy to plead
for her life
but she wasn't the knife
in her ribs
she had things to live for
and although she was sore
from the beatings
she stood
with no help from Jah
or golly or gosh
her feet slosh
in pools of rain
and tears
and her thoughts sear her head
god wanted her dead
but she refused
and said
"I'm no one's puppet."

The Best Thing

Sometimes I sit and think about us.
Come to think of it, I always sit and think about us.
More importantly, I sit and think about you.
Your thick hair
your vibrant eyes
your loving stare
your sincere good-byes

your tight hugs
and gentle kiss
and what always bugged me
is what I missed

Let me explain:
you drive me nuts.
I mean, you drive me absolutely insane
but then,
I'm insanely in love with you
so I suppose it all works out.

I just want to be with you.
all day.
every day.

I want to be there for every laugh.
every smile.
every moment of pure joy
spilling from your face
like a beautiful aura
dancing around us
as we kiss.

My friends say
I'm a different person
when I'm with you.

I'm happy.

and you know what?

they're right.

The fact is,
you are the best thing
that has ever happened to me.
and you are the best thing
that ever will happen to me.
I love you Lauren Yarnall
and always will. <3

Lyrics Remix: Beaten Up Chucks

Beaten up Chucks
on a downtown street
Niggas don't play
'Cause I got my own beat
footsteps around me
cover my flow
I've got my girls
you don't even know
what to do
when I'm comin' 'round
what should I call
this brand new sound?
fightin off niggas
like it's goin outta style
this white boy don't play
I'm like the 8 mile
Real talk though
I ain't no one to fuck wit
so you better not
even think of tryin' to truck this
I maybe can't ball
but I lay down the rhymes, yea
I may not be black
so catch up with the times, yea
All these stupid rappers
all of them can suck me
'cause all I really need
are my beaten up chucks, see
and now you've heard me spit
so just try and touch me.

The World We Know (A Rap/Rock Song)

Rapper:
People dyin every day
another life another say
I never knew it was today
that she was gonna be
traded by fiends
for heroin and other things
and as they snort their coke
they'll hear him sing
that...

(chorus)
Singer:
Everything you do
They don't know
They don't know that it's the truth
These sheeple follow you
and you tell them
and you tell them what you want them to think
what you want them to do

It's the world we know

(verse 2)
Rapper:
And the world we see
Fighting's become
a way to be
because some people
aren't free
from corruption and hate
and then her pupils dialate
because the guys
can't get a date
and so they chose
to date and rape
as if there was
no other way
but then they'll hear him say
that...

(chorus)

I fight because I care
about the people unaware
of the rights that we all share
to life and love and all that shit
if people knew they'd have a fit
because they live in cells unlit
and as they rot for crimes undone
they know those motherfuckers won
and that this fucked up system grows
and that's why I use my flow
to tell you we can fight
against the world we know.

SRX EDGE

The pen I'm writing this with is called "SRX Edge"
I never understood why
they give such not exciting items
such exciting names

Actually, to me, a pen is exciting.
It might just be a tool
but, to me, it's a tool
with which I forge my art
create my craft
chistle my statues
of glorious heroes
in the world of poetry:
Robert Frost
Emily Dickenson
Sylvia Plath
Big Poppa E

That's right,
I said it.
Big Poppa E.
A man who's words have transformed my childhood
into such inspirational topics
that they've made my mediocre work
art.

So now I'm wondering to myself,
"Where do I go now?"
I'm sitting in in-school-suspension
for skipping bullshit classes
I don't even need
and I can't help contemplating
"Where am I going in life?
Where will this path lead me?
Will I go to college and become
a school therapist like I want to?
Or is my dad right?
Will I be nothing more than a failure
fighting for change in the desolate streets
trying to survive each winter?"

The truth is, I don't know
I don't know
I just don't know.

My life is
like T.S. Eliots "The Wasteland"
like Ophelia's last words
like Romeos plan
like Big Poppa E's "Pushing Buttons"
like being addicted
and having smoked your last cigarette
and not having nearly enough money to buy another pack
so you sit there and shake and fret
by yourself until your next paycheck
like so many allusions within similes
that I've honestly lost count.

Just like I've lost count
of the years that have gone by
since my dad last said he loved me
or called me "champ."
Just like I've lost count
of the number of times
I've cried over that last statement
and how many times
I've written poems he didn't read
about that last statement.
Poems written with a pen just like this one,
a not exciting tool
that cried it's ink onto a page just like this one
just to forge my art
and create my craft.

Come Children

I wanna see the world
through the eyes of a seed
drifting on the wind
listening to it plead
"come children of god
come children of trees
let me hold you in my arms
let me kiss you with the breeze"
I wanna view the earth
from the eyes of a girl
a girl down on her knees
whispering to god
a girl begging "please,
don't take my life
don't give me keys
to heaven or hell"
-she pauses to weeze-
"I just want to live
in this room that I lease
for eight hundred a month
with this guy I won't leave
'cause I love him so much
and I truly believe
that if I don't stop
I will not cease."
she stops when she sees
outside her window
a very small seed
as it passes her room
-the one for lease-
it seems to plead
"Come children of god
come children of trees
let me hold you in my arms
let me kiss you with the breeze."

The Blitz

I am
constricted
to you, less
addicted to
meticulous
actions
for factions
or fashions
soldiers
need water
or rations
but we ain't
no plot or
no passion
'cause we
ain't for
nationalism
or lack there of.
You see
it's me
you're comin' for
'cause I keep
spitting lore
like a common whore
or your dad
when you were four
and I pour
the words
right down your throat
you come back for more
but you can't
get past my moat
of allusions and rhymes
just past the time
of war
it's what time
is for
a sight for sore
eyes that blind
and hands of gore
lips that list
a love I've kissed
they ask me the name
I say
"if it's all the same
we're not at the ritz,
so call this
The Blitz"

Sunsets

like rain in a forest
pouring over the canopy
like smiles in a crowd
burning through the fog
like diamonds in the rough
ascending to human hands
like pearls in your eyes
a shakespearian tragedy
wrapped in a turncoat
wrapped in a trivial sunset
can sunsets be trivial?
the beauty of purple over orange
over yellow over red
the colors meshing in
sensual intercourse
as I feel your smooth skin
against my chest
a glorious romance
embedded in my arms
like so many tattoos
I know you're there
like a crystal in a field
I feel your heart
like a sunset
I see only you.

Never Again

Never again
she said
spite pouring through her veins
and arteries
like so many cars
over the san francisco bridge
and if we were to look in one of those cars
we'd see a girl
probably nineteen
on her way home

There she sat
lonely and bound
to her seat and belt
like a dog to a leash
dreaming of getting up
and flying away

but she doesn't
she sits there
and thinks about her ex
a boy too confused
to see what he wants
she thought to herself
well, what if he knew?
what if he knew
exactly what he was missing out on?
she shook her head
relieving herself of the memories
so fragile that their
shattered fragments
blocked her ideas
of peace and serenity
and she reminded herself

Never again.

The Fertile Land (a.k.a. the Wasteland part VII)

I disagree
February is the cruellest month
where snow and cold winds rule
and in the dead land
a rose grows at my feet
bending in my direction

Oh, I see the sun
it's shining all around me
the dead land blooms
with sparks of chaos
and the ruins of something
beautiful.

Oh, this one goes out
to those who refuse to be defined
like those dictionaries with no words
they shone a sad light through
the soul of a long forgotten ghost
saying
"My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad.
Stay with me."
He is the third that walks always beside you
the third that has stolen my conscience
and corrupted my mind
behind
it seems
the world can go it's own way
in fact, it can fade away

Spit a hole to China

Swept away by vicious tides
of hate, breeding in the masses
trying to find some solace
in a mountain dew and a jack
outside in the cold
I run my hand through my hair
while my other hand maintains
a burning cigarette.
With no one around
I spit at the ground
hoping to burn a hole to China
so maybe I will have someone to talk to.
It won't be much
as the language barrier will
defeat any possible
logical flow of conversation
however the sound
of another man's voice
is enough to make me desire it so.
Oh, how I wish I could spit a hole to China
how I wish I could burn my way
into another man's heart
a friendship between us
that breaks all possible restrictions.
When there is no further test results
I will march into the lab
where my soul was born
and take the conscience
that is rightfully mine.
Oh, how I wish I could spit a hole to China
just to have someone to talk to...

I'm Not Gonna Lose You (I love you Aunt Kim)

Don't say you're sorry
I don't want to hear it
Don't say you're sorry
I just want you to fix it
Tripping over feelings
coming out my eyes
can't believe what I'm seeing
how can I sympathize?
You're running in corners
and can't dig your way out
You can't fly away
or just run a new route
you're selfish and dumb
and don't know what you're doing
because if you did
you'd know what you're losing
everyone who cares
and everyone who knows
what a good person you are
so stop it and show us
we all make mistakes
so it's time that you fix them
we all get in fights
and we know what ticks them
off, but it's okay
as long as you repair
those feelings of love
those feelings you share
so you fell of your horse
and you could just stay down
or you'll get up
and prove them all wrong
so brush off the dirt
and pull up your boots
'cause I'm not gonna lose you
to men in black suits.
I love you Aunt Kim.

Standing on Ice

Standing on ice
wearing nothing but shorts
Life is so cold
when you're out in the snow
not the sleet nor the rain
not the sun nor the clouds
Life's absent of pain
when your heart beats too loud
and yea we were standing
when the snow plow came by
found ourselves silent
when the wind asked us why
"why must you protest?
I do nothing but serve you
and you fight with no rest."
to which we quietly replied,
"because we chose to be served
not enslaved."

We're only seventeen (and goin nowhere fast)

It's fucking cold outside
I can see my icy breath
float slowly to the ground
And yea I've got a coat
but there's a steady breeze
and I can hear the sound
of rules around me
always running
from the hounds and
it's so damn hard
to light a jack
when the wind is blowing
and the sky is snowing
just need my board
and some room
'cause I'll skate that shit
till the cops come
or till you get your jack lit
one left in your pack
you need the niccotine
and the warmth you lack
but hey,
we're only seventeen
and we're goin nowhere fast

Oh, Glorious Slavery, How Ironic Art Thou?

The chains go
clink
clink
clink
as the shackles fall
around your ankles
and the rusty chain
binds tight your weary heart

Oh! And the hills and falls
of beauty on a crisp summer morn
how it flies and flows with your hair
billowing around your cuffs and chains.
Never before did slavery seem so glorious
in the sickly green fields of riches and power
gathered by the farmers of greed.

Segregated by the people
they now seek to destroy
leaders of the world and industry
united in sickening political power
to destroy everhthing we love
and enslave us all.

Humans

Humans are systems. We are machines. The most complicated machines ever. But machines, nonetheless. And, like all machines, we can be operated if the right buttons are pushed, the right levers pulled. So how do you work another machine? Well, you figure out their buttons and levers, and the proper sequences and BAM, you can control other people. It's not even an art as much as it is a science. You become the proprietor of someone elses body, and the world is yours for the taking.

Shoot 'em and Loot 'em

I am a human fucking being
and the nonsense I'm seeing
is driving me beserk
I'm on high alert
because the system is crashing
looks like people are dashing
for the exit route
and I can't even shout
'cause no one would hear me
over the TV
that's blaring
staring
faring well
trying to sell
us an infomercial
about a commercial
about the government
hidden in an oven mitt
and suddenly
it is hitting me
so abruptly
yet subtly
Billy Mayes
pushing voting
and drugs
toking
popping slugs
for the U.S. of A.
they do that don't they?
It's a hole in the system
because they're muslim
not christian
so it's okay
lock and load
shoot 'em and loot 'em.

Taste the Anarchy

I'm no artist
but you're a masterpiece
and I'm no rolla
but I rhyme like master P
and when I walk in
I don't roll mad deep
but what I got comin'
is somethin you can't meet
somethin you can't beat
Yea, I'm a gentleman
but I won't give up my seat
to some punk
some jack-ass butch
tryin' to push me
like a runt
best expect a fight
if I win, a catastrophe
so you can spend the night
in the hospital G
with the goons and the filth
and the truth, Reality
see the lights
taste the anarchy.

My Justifications for Good and Evil

What do you want from me?
I have my justifications
for my many relations
with my environment
and my various allignments
with good and evil
no, I'm not perfect
not even close
I have my lighter
and a pack of smokes

and you yell
and you criticize
when you can't summarize
my demise
and surprise
when I realized
that all this time
my miracle cure
costs six bucks
and a dime

You don't know
what you think you know
because I don't show
everything that is
hidden below
the surface

and yea
you never asked
"Is it hard
to live with yourself
with all of those scars?"
and it is.
no, I'm not pure
but this is my cure
but don't yell at me
until your cause is sure.
**********************
the story behind this one is that one of my best friends, Kim, has been really upset with me lately because she thinks I've been smoking more recently than I have in the past. I'm 17 and have been smoking for a year, and I feel like I (and many smokers) get criticized for smoking when she, and anyone else who bothers me about it, doesn't know anything about what I'm trying to hide behind the smoke...

The one you smile at

I want to be
the one you smile at.
I want to be
your sudden bloom.
I want to be
your front porch light.
I want to be
with you tonight.
I know he's kind.
I know he's generous
and smart
and understanding
and nice
and attractive
and Christian
and friendly
and strong
and everything,
or enough of what,
you always wanted
in that guy
that wouldn't touch you
for years to come
and you had not
a spare thought for.
More importantly,
I know I'm not him.
I promise I'm not trying to be.
I want to try to be.
I want to be like him.
Not because
I like republicans
or because
I want to start airsofting.
I want to be like him
because I want to be
the one you smile at.

Am I

Am I sleeping?
Am I awake?
Am I real?
Am I fake?
Am I here?
Am I there?
Am I common?
Am I rare?
Am I alone?
Am I smothered?
Am I the one?
Am I just another?
Am I rambling?
Am I making sense?
Am I not open?
Am I too dense?
Am I riley?
Am I unnamed?
Am I guilty?
Am I to blame?
Am I yours?
Am I theirs?
Am I anyones?
Does anyone care?


Do... do you care?

any one of us

well, I'm pretty sure
that even if we stay perfectly still
time keeps moving forward
and there's not a damn thing
any one of us can do about it
and I'm pretty sure
that even if we isolate
ourselves from the world around us
the world is always there
and there is absolutely nothing
any one of us can do about it
and I'm pretty sure
you're pretty, sure,
and I'm just here
to allure, and sure,
we're pretty sore,
but no one's pure,
so you're not a whore
I'm sure
You're not here
You're not my cure
I poured my soul
just to turn
when I tried to stir
my journey ended
and now I'm lost...

An Awakening

"I'm living life!"
he exclaimed
as he desecrated
the mental bonds
that for so long had
restricted him.
He levitated
from the need
to look at the razor
dragged across his skin
as he awoke to the sun
and beauty
of a new world
that was truthfully
there all along
he just had to
open his eyes
and open his heart.

I Smile Through My Teeth

I've told people stories
I've sinned
over
and over
again
I've lied through a smile
and smiled through my teeth
and fibed my way
into concerts
and out of trouble.
I've lied to
to every
single
person
I have
ever known
and laughed
when they looked
at me
and asked
"Really?"
and I say
"yes!"
and while I tell
all of these
fibs
you can rest assured
I'll never tell
one single truth
that will end
in hurt.

Inspired by Nina

Johnny's Gun

I was
enrolled
a student
became
a soldier
for peace
at least
that's what
I was told
I sold
my soul
for a body
of gold
and never
did find
what I was
looking for.
The system
was broken
my life
was a joke and
nobody knew,
but my
success
was due
and I told 'em
I'm ready
my aim
will be steady
get out
of my crosshairs
or I'll
fill you with lead
he said
see what you will
and do
what you may
but you better
remember
what you
did say
to me
and your mother
and your
lover as well,
because
at the gates
they will
send you to
hell.
Well,
I looked up
at him
and I
leveled
my gun,
and I fired
and left
and my
dad knew
I won.

Static Stereo

Why would I look farther?
Don't make this harder
Than it has to be.
Can't you see,
Can't you hear
Can't you think
I'm sitting in this lonely room
and the only person
consoling me
and giving me any advice
is my static stereo
and the only ones
who speak to me
are John Lennon
and Bloc Party.

I care about the rainforest
and I hate George Bush
but none of that
tells me why
why you aren't telling me
you're sorry.
Life is full of tough shit
but no one said
I'd have to watch
the most beautiful girl in the world
tear me apart.
If we were all perfect
I would be perfectly imperfect
and if we were all imperfect
then I would be a ghost
I would be a ghost
and I'm floating by.

Don't Talk to Girls

Little little brother
I told you not to go
So
No
Listen Listen
little brother
Don't talk to girls
they'll break your heart
little little brother
they'll break your
big big heart
and I know I know
that you don't know
So listen listen
little brother
don't talk to girls
they'll break your heart.

Susceptible to Serenading you

I'm finding life under the stairs so hard
that I'm climbing them up backwards to you
your face is what hurts me when we're apart
like daggers and swords and bombs and fire too

Inverted life is irresistable
your eyes, disarming, alarming me so
I looked in your soul and asked if you're trouble
you looked back and told me you're alone

liquid pools of red love and arrogance
I'm swimming through time to you and knowing
you are somewhere no one has a chance
of getting you in the habit of showing.

I took you because I really liked you
and keep you because I really love you.

Souldier's Hymn

Cut me Cut me
like a boy in the school yard
serenade me like a sitcom
and sell me like a whore
before before me
lies the devil and his mom
And I would have been scared
but my soul has been gone gone gone
since the day that he died
and I've got life in my limbs
and sky in my veins
and I'm planning on a massacre
at your vacation home
so maybe you'll finally resort to that imagination
Fuck that
I'm a souldier
Rock the system
and fuck the world
is the hymn they pray
as they save the world
from the enemies in themselves
and he's gone like a prayer
spoken cold in the night.

Pull the lever Lucifer

We're all having fun
just sitting round
a boring campfire.

Bring out the sticks
bring out the gas
bring out the fun shit that
us kids aren't supposed to have

And we'll
burn
burn
burn
this fucking love apart.

Like we were
sitting back home
on the porch to the house
and you saw your dad die
as it fell to the ground
and you stared

Would the fire alarm ring
at a quarter to nine?
just in time
to save the day?
the lever stood there
but you only glared
you only stared
away

Pull the lever lucifer
where did you go
when he was trapped
in the attic
of the house
that you burned to the ground?

Pull the lever Lucifer
I know you hurt
when you see his shirt
catch fire
but all you think about
is the bruises on your arm
and your black eye

I guess Karma has a name
it's Lucifer

Colors

Your red heart makes you beautiful,
Your blue eyes make my skies.
My black heart needs you to be full
I'm not telling you white lies.

Orange horizons tell stories
of green fields far away
where silver knights of glory
and girls like you lay.

My green eyes say that you're too good
but my grey soul can't keep away.
My purple brain says I should
just go to you and say

This world is full of colors and it was yours, alone,
that out of all the others, to me, truly shone.