Principle or vicinity? Principle or quantity?
Principle or vicinity, you won’t be fine with your ignorance
Assertion, burn the bridges, assertion the price tag’s ugly.
I have denied myself a thousand cravings, that I might express what could not remain unheard,
What you esteem as naught and now your eyes will open as you hear my child.
In one world receptions, the clatter of fancy glasses. Men in suits give addresses and women in dresses stand by to complement. In another world the product serves me tirelessly. I’m unlike the popular figures. I’ll jump out of the dark and strike them hard and fast
Why don’t you perform some anomalous operation to allay our vexations, otherwise quit complaining.
No! No, projectiles stuck my loved ones everywhere I turned, and all of it my fault. It was not supposed to happen like this.
It’s alright, it’s ok, but you got a lot coming up, so get on your feet, sneak up behind the demon and get back on board. Staying on the ground is the worst thing you could do. Get up! What do you have to lose? What do you have to lose? Please get getup, I promise, I promise you killing in penitence we have nothing to fear. This behavior is not fitting for you. Get up, now do it now! Show your guts!
Your were ravaged by a vicious disgrace all heaped up tenfold. All because you dared to say that two plus two equals four. But we’ll take the flak, we’ll bounce right back and soon expose their evil purposes not helped at all by the static mass who love their bread and circuses.
The press stamps go down and up and down and up and down.
The heretic is under the whip, the renegade beneath the blade. Now what are you waiting for, there’s a price to be paid. You can say two plus two equals four; It’s your birthright. Salve that growing blight, throw that heathen out and see the light.
There’s a war raging. So awaken, my friend, and embrace the glory that is your inheritance. Who is the enemy? The passive, the collective, the heathen, the animal, the defiler.
In the end, there will be shattered frames strewn about the field. In the end, there will be forsaken gifts that geniuses wouldn’t wield. In the end there will be vengeance supreme and trampled, broken pride. In the end will you be at my side, or will you have still just denied? Decide.
Can you see that saint? Tried grieved afflicted open arms, with sword in hand.
A man walks along the horizon, he is scarred and marred, he’s been despitefully used, he’s been brutally marred. He is bent, broken. He is crawling and chokin. But through the smoke, blood and tears he rushes headlong towards his fears.
And he just keeps moving along.
Once in a while, he is hit by a boulder. Pestilence, calamities, ashes, smolders! One would wonder how he continues to cope. Then he turns the key of sacrifice in the lock of hope.
And he just keeps movin. And he just keeps movin.
9 to 5 No Thank You
A fly buzzin in through the window that seems to say nine to five no thank you. Don’t splurge on a hit man, don’t throw a fit, man; come site, man; and think this through. But really, why all this nonsense? (silence feels strange.) Why not just take the clientelle all by storm? Just don’t back out when it’s time to perform.
Have you ever thought the crowd gets dull? Let’s look for the contact that’s more full.
But there’s this creature called society—always spinning webs of trend and other contrivances of social conditioning. They say jump you say how high, they say, then you say ok, or so they say.Killed momentum: so painful, but a contrast to a future victory. The computer music doesn’t really have much to say, so that’s why I avoid it when it comes my way.
Follow me through this dark, dark tunnel of my defiance. But if you should chose not to I’ll still be here for you.
Tornadopaste
A twisted system is better than what?! Folded, screwed up, nipped and tucked. Reject all but the proved, hard, honest, purely loving.
Why do you keep this fear? Why do you hurt yourself while I’m dying in here?
If he won’t give you the better you deserve then behold: a renegade indeed in whom there is no guile.
Who can shout this loud enough? Who can shout this well enough?
Reject all but the proved, hard, honest, purely loving.
Why do you keep this fear? Why do you hurt yourself while I’m dying in here for you—for you.
Distortion is not so fine except when of our stringed friends. Distortion is not so fine except when of our stringed friends.
Anomaly
They sift out all the mortals. They coax me out the door and into the light. Their omnipresence stings so bad. It grants my rising to the top with you.
Oh, what painful intricacies vex you and I, Oh, what complications face all mankind!
I’ve learned some other things pretty quick; perhaps I can figure you out too, if only you knew my desire to prove how much I love you. How can one so lovely hurt so bad? I love the thorns and the trenches. Oh what intricacies bless you and I, oh what worthwhile complications nurture all mankind.
And you face your own demons every day; I know but a face of this today. But if I listen carefully to all you have to say, then though you feel the pain as they claw at you I’ll somehow state to you that you walk the runway in my eyes.
