_0227

And so we take this one step further
A way to new and  better things
The grass is purple. On the bitter side.
and its moving away from us in time.


Let us take, and make, and say
we’ll try to fake it anyways.
Into this we’ve sunk.
Into writing songs.


surfing syndication, shivering annoyance
We like this in satin engulfed,
astounding in abundance.
and so we hate.


alternating sequences and frequencies
there is no escape, into this we were bred.
there is only some insanity and guilt.
out of heresy into ecstacy.


we want. we kill. we ship we haunt.
we like it tight. we like it short.
we can’t decant, we can’t incant
we can’t they’re glad to come on back


Inside there is no will,
no initial thoughts
for making sense
out of consciousness.