1. |
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smeared across generations of crude dicks, shitbrained epithets and erotic limericks paints a pretty picture of paradise consumed by oceans of trash: another tragic reminder of all that human beings waste as they try to escape the inevitable.
|
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2. |
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tonight i find him alone.
he takes the long way home.
he looks so pretty when he cries.
his inflated manhood sends him through the crowd like it's his civic duty to rub crotch. backed hard, good guy, his bravado sways between his thighs. his dick is blue with denim, his swagger's porno-scene, his target's freshly seventeen, he's got it down, his whole routine.
goddamn this guy's a fuck machine.
my knife can slice his cock so clean.
empty his balls into his mouth
and watch his cum run all down south.
i just wanna watch him groan for the very last time.
lemme tell you, man--it's good to be alive.
|
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3. |
03 anal sex for satan
01:10
|
|
||
i hope god cries when i masturbate.
every day i die a little death for satan.
take your crucifix and shove it in your ass.
take your missionaries and hit them from the back.
there's only one path to true salvation:
total global penetration.
i am the filth you shield their ears from.
this is the happy ending you were afraid of.
your willful ignorance, scared-straight,
body-shame propaganda--this is the outcome.
|
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4. |
04 zapruder film buff
01:12
|
|
||
bombs in boston aren't a hoax but a flex.
we're safe from truth for now, but we're next.
caught in the cross-hairs of a military action-hero complex.
sex and bullets riddle the climax.
ripped from hollywood, theaters packed.
a nonsense, scripted patriot attack,
a cryptic stage-play's final act.
|
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5. |
|
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why would a pig
at the mall
use his gun
on a child
who had called
for his help
as he was told?
why were the eyes
of the crowd
on the price
of the clothes?
he was 10 years old.
there are no innocent bystanders
only victims and executioners.
justice is a myth.
we drown in the flood of ancient vengeance
or swim through blood to the surface.
|
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6. |
|
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i rinse my hands in blood
and swallow filth.
they come knocking with their guns
and i can't hide my guilt.
there is a cop inside my head and he must be destroyed.
|
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7. |
07 -∞
01:30
|
|
||
you know where hell is?
it's inside my head
birthing irrationalities
worries
without regard
for the effect outside my skull.
the negative wake is without intention
and i truly can't believe myself
when you tell me how i've made you feel .
flowers die when i touch them
happiness has never lasted and i only feel inclined to
spout the nervous fantasies that come to me because
of course i'm happy to be in this moment with you and i
thought that went without saying but i guess when i voice
a half-concern that specifies the opposite, that original
assumption of happiness is negated.
i understand how this could contribute to an overall
environment of negativity.
they see darkness,
i feel just fine.
i see suffering
in the sunrise.
|
C0MPUTER Orlando, Florida
This application has encountered a critical error:
ERROR # 665 (0x74200069) Fatal exception!
Program:
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ProcessID: 999
Exception: 0xD0000008 (ACCESS_VIOLATION) at 0021:1200666
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