Fork and knife

Functions like a filter and a moral code. A glove between your body and all of that above.

Let it slide.

It’s something about time that raises the death toll. No more a servant of the sun. Now a slave under the mechanical indicator.

Let it slide.

Undisciplined and indolent the desirable and innocent.
Living counterattacks to rip the cause.
A bag so full of human flaws.

Let it slide.

Culture Générale

They say we’re fucking dead.
They say we’re fucking dead.

I left my cold shoulder for the future. Buried the hatchet halfway into the mould.
Assuring I’ll receive it, to carry on. From diverge to converge. I’m longing.

Like a rendezvous at a burial ground. A morbid fascination over desolate hideouts where backs turned to hurt.
In the dead of night. Ominous and dense creatures stumbling at my porch. I let them inside.
We feast on pink hearts. And toast with fake love.

I’m the antidote.

Good morning human

Some try to fly while their wings are soaked.
Some even turn to God without proper cause.
Begging for bread with handful of cash.
All that is rendering the final lash.

I shove this up your ass. I shove this down your throat.

When I’m dead and gone. Consider which words are in vain and which are not.

I shove this up your ass. I shove this down your throat.

Day roaming vampires. Die!

Sodden in blood. Quenching ravenous hearts by drenching human lives.
Give up the ghost. And we will be all right.
Odious traces and blight. Accumulate; dispose the waste.
Contemplate; (now follows attachment and hate.) I writhe in disgust. Debunking all your filthy little lies. I defy.

Stop beating around the bush

“Little people gather around, here’s a brand new story.”
“A little secret will I reveal if you kneel and follow order.”
“Follow me!”

“I’ll gather my benevolent herds. To make sure you don’t come by”
But we are the antonyms. The cause of your demise. We are fortified.

While papers precede faces, your glowing features resemble faeces.
Our howling will resound, there are no boundaries.

Release the cogs from this machine. Relentless and stern are these tricks.
Alive and kicking infantry. A boundless militia; reaching globally.

Make way, make way! For the new world order.
Stay away, stay away! And please don’t bother.

The golden arch symphony

Finally I found myself a channel, a realization that opposes the majority.
I’ve witnessed my inner expression, through those who won’t compromise.

Critics, let your loath come thick and fast over this.
Critics, let your loath come thick and fast over this.

My opinion still stand cos’ the paper wolves are gathering again.
A phenomenon that gives pleasure to the subjective violence.

Critics, let your loath come thick and fast over this.
Critics, let your loath come thick and fast over this.

As the stones hit the shield, pressure is released.
Along the aftermath manipulation is overwhelmingly reeking.
My tiny part of trust died that day.

The abstract Citizen

“My self is gone, alive yet so cold.”
Reach beyond your kind. Brake up now.

“Alone in a crowd, alienated from you.”
Theorize. It’s critical and a necessity for a non status quo.

A perfect life, a perfect smile.
Even God could have his share of gold, but He descended here to die,
this is the epitaph of our soul.

Culture; just a strain on us. Singing our elegy.
Rip it out, throw it down. It’s unarmed but fatal.

A strangers eyes, objectified.
Where does the blind man go when everybody grows up and dies?

Calculated interaction of callous minds.
Endless seeking for a haven in a heartless world.