Good morning sky
Happy birthday
One of your particles
Had to have been born
One year ago today
Good morning fence
Who cut your limbs
And put you up here to
Slowly and pridefully rot
All for the outer image
Good morning Mr. Celebrity
Happy birthday
I know everybody loves you
Because you emerged from the gene pool
A specimen to behold
And you got your lucky break
And I’m just one more fan
But I wish you the best anyway
Even if you’re not listening
Good morning to me
Happy birthday
I have to tell myself
Because no one else does anymore
Because I may have gotten too damn good
At self-pity even while I’m crying for the world
But somehow it still seems like I’m
Bitter and bored, with knife in ego
Laughing at it all
Just because laughing feels better
Laughing feels great
But good morning to me
Happy birthday
Nothing else
Goodbye
Saturday, August 2, 2008
She was gone
(NOTE: Some of these posted today are pretty old and all were written on seperate occasions, so even if they seem somehow interconnected, it's just coincidence.)
She was gone
But who’s to say
You can’t leave
If you weren’t there in the first place
if we’re ever happy it will be
by false pretenses, false pretenses
if the stimulus wears off we will be
always pretending, always pretending
if the dogs die inside us we will make
make believe, make believe
and place the dream on repeat
till no one’s watching but us
now that no one’s looking
can I tell you a secret?
now I’m not so uptight
can you please come true?
In the back of my mind
You’re just another object
Just another angel
But then I remember
We’re more than that
“No, we’re not”
She was gone
But who’s to say
You can’t leave
If you weren’t there in the first place
if we’re ever happy it will be
by false pretenses, false pretenses
if the stimulus wears off we will be
always pretending, always pretending
if the dogs die inside us we will make
make believe, make believe
and place the dream on repeat
till no one’s watching but us
now that no one’s looking
can I tell you a secret?
now I’m not so uptight
can you please come true?
In the back of my mind
You’re just another object
Just another angel
But then I remember
We’re more than that
“No, we’re not”
Robin Alexander #4
Women like to argue
It’s the one thing they’re good at
(Besides cockteasing that is)
Even when they know they’re wrong
They’ll fight you
Maybe they think they’re making up for
The thousands years oppression
They live only by emotion
And so we have to pay
Already Dead Joseph said
“Women are the closest we’ll ever get to angels”
He can say that though
Because he’s never been in love
It’s the one thing they’re good at
(Besides cockteasing that is)
Even when they know they’re wrong
They’ll fight you
Maybe they think they’re making up for
The thousands years oppression
They live only by emotion
And so we have to pay
Already Dead Joseph said
“Women are the closest we’ll ever get to angels”
He can say that though
Because he’s never been in love
Square
They call me “square”
when I tell them I’m straight
But isn’t it the truth?
Addicts have got to be some of the dullest motherfuckers on the planet
when I tell them I’m straight
But isn’t it the truth?
Addicts have got to be some of the dullest motherfuckers on the planet
Waterfall
What is it about anger
You punched him in the mouth once
But you did it again
And again
You think your fist locking
With his jaw will find you relief
But you just want more
And more
It’s the primal man in you
The primal man wants blood
The primal man wants to swim in it
You dig into his flesh
Looking for answers
But you never find them
There are no answers there
But you keep looking
Before you know it
You’ll hospitalize one man
And kill another
And the blood just keeps pumping
Never-ending
It spreads across the floor
Until it reaches the drain
And thus, a waterfall
Un-sluiced
Continuing a blood-flow
Which has remained
Since the origin of man
But you can end it
You can cut it off at the source
You can rip the world to the dark ages
But you’ll still want more
Or you can stop now
And thirst anyway
But you can deny
The source of the futility
Of human endeavor
The primal man will always want blood
The primal man will always want more of
That which he is allowed enough
You punched him in the mouth once
But you did it again
And again
You think your fist locking
With his jaw will find you relief
But you just want more
And more
It’s the primal man in you
The primal man wants blood
The primal man wants to swim in it
You dig into his flesh
Looking for answers
But you never find them
There are no answers there
But you keep looking
Before you know it
You’ll hospitalize one man
And kill another
And the blood just keeps pumping
Never-ending
It spreads across the floor
Until it reaches the drain
And thus, a waterfall
Un-sluiced
Continuing a blood-flow
Which has remained
Since the origin of man
But you can end it
You can cut it off at the source
You can rip the world to the dark ages
But you’ll still want more
Or you can stop now
And thirst anyway
But you can deny
The source of the futility
Of human endeavor
The primal man will always want blood
The primal man will always want more of
That which he is allowed enough
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