Something Different

Slowly

Carrying the weight of our souls
Backpacking through living hell
I wish for more
But all I get is the same
Cavernous, carnivores
We eat our young
Shit out the old
A machine made of razor blade teeth
The cycle won’t end
For fear that all will be lost
For fear of death
For fear of something different
We think that we know everything
We know nothing beyond despise
The fact we can breathe
Is a miracle in isn’t self
Embrace this, embrace it all
See where it takes us after all
Slowly declining such a sad existence
Slowly
Slowly

Nine Dollars a Day

Against all odds
Raised up against the bets
Pulled it off
But lost it all
If you think you know
You learn to find
You know nothing at all
The importance of thought
A grain of sand
In a giant tidal wave of shit
You drown in it
You struggle threw it
But in the end
You only learn to live with it

A Place Called Home

Slowly killing myself
Slowly killing you
I take you down with me
To a deep dark hole
I’ve come to call my soul
After everything we’ve done
After everything I’ve said
There’s not much left to love
A fear I have come to commend
Slowly killing myself
Slowly killing you
I take you within me
To have and to hold
Forever of old
To a place called home

Something Different

Survival Instinct

I can smell the new smell of death
Disgusting, digesting, fermenting
Or is it the smell of day old oil
I’m unsure as unclassified as one can be
I break into the vault only to find that it’s all gone
Nothing is ever what it seems
Yet I sit and sit waiting for something new
Each day a tiny, little bit of a disappointment
I forgot what it means to say
I forgot what it’s called
But I’m sick of waiting

I can hear a voice calling my name
Obnoxious, horrid, abstentious
Or is it someone screaming for help
I’m unsure as uncommunicable as one can be
I walked into the wrong area only to find that they had all moved on
Everything is always what it seems
Each minute a tiny, little bit of disappointment
I forgot what it means to see
I forgot what it was that I saw
But I’m sick of always wondering

I can see a figure in the distance
Disfigured, distracting, dismembered
Or is it only me from the shadows
I’m unsure as unbelievable as that could be
I destroyed every mirror only to learn there was never an image
Nothing is ever what it seems
Each second a tiny, little bit of a disappointment
I forgot what it means to be
I forgot what it was that I heard
But I’m sick of never knowing

You Get One, Maybe Fourteen Chances

I’m writing a book, shut up isn’t everyone?
At this point, you have to realize we each have a story
Some boring, some slow, but God and the Devil aren’t the only characters in the world
You are not as important as you think you are
The preacher likes to preach, but isn’t the bible really about me?
Choke on that and realize nor is anyone
But yet, but still you fantasize without real lies
We’d be nothing at all
Vicious cycle of hanging out at the mall
Nothing matters but were all the same
Can I have a dollar?
You can go fuck off
If I told you once, I know I’ll have to tell you again
I don’t care and nor does your mom
So write your journals, write your blogs
Print the shit off and we’ll talk
Long, long after you are gone and I’m
Still left standing here with a thumb up my ass
Without an asset to my name
When exactly does it mean to be someone?
Why am I asking you like we’re familiar
Like we are family and not my boss