Thursday, November 28, 2013

Death Of The Artist (Fucking Myself In The Time Hole)

WHAT DRIVES US?
MAKES US LOOK FOR SOMETHING MORE
LOVE, I DON'T THINK SO
LOVE IS JUST A PRETTY DRESS
WE DRAPE OVER OUR DESIRES
HATE, NO DOUBTFUL
HATE IS JUST AN EXCUSE WE CALL
UPON WHEN THERE IS NOTHING ELSE TO GRAB
GREED, MAYBE
BUT GREED WILL ONLY CARRY YOU
SO FAR

WE HAVE BECOME CHILDREN OF BOREDOM
SEEKING OUT THE QUICKEST FIX
THE NEWEST HIGH
MORE IS LESS AND LESS IS NOT ENOUGH

WE ARE NOW LIVING COMMERCIALS
EACH OF US A THIRTY SECOND SPOT
SELLING OURSELVES
DRAMA FUELING PSYCHO-RAMA
AND THE TALKING HEADS
OF PHONY STATES
ENCOURAGE US TO FIGHT ON
FIGHT ON FOR FREEDOM
FIGHT ON FOR RIGHTEOUSNESS
FIGHT ON
FIGHT ON
NEVER MIND THE COST
THAT IS WHY WE HAVE THE YOUTH
BORN AND BRED TO SERVE THE MASTER
BUILDING THE PERFECT CONSUMER

AND ALL THIS IS JUST A FLASH
IN THE MIND OF A CHILD OF BOREDOM
A SPLIT SECOND NOTION
OF THE TRUE MEANING
THE ANSWER TO ALL THE WHY'S.....

HEY, MY DOWNLOAD IS DONE

WHAT WAS I THINKING ABOUT?
OH WELL

1 comment:

  1. This goes back to 2005. I wrote this under an alter-ego I used on a poetry website. Once upon a time I wrote under the name OHMYGODTHATSHUGE. I'm such the liar.

    ReplyDelete

Anna, She Drives the Big Van While I Smile and Wave at the Creatures Along the Highway

  these broken boxes of dreams scattered about the lime green waters sleeping in icy caverns beneath the surface of moons i long ago forgot ...