I guess I don’t believe in what you could call karma, but I can’t rule out the possibility. They say what goes around, comes around, but that’s not what this world has made so evident to me. Observe and see there’s no strict philosophy and who can say they got what they deserved? Fair is just a playground full of carnies and rides. It’s not a tangible idea, it’s just a pocket draining prize and you can hope for justice, you can pray for piece, but I’ll bank on disappointment and wait for disability. I’ve got a choice not a destiny and that sounds just about right to me. Are we just leaky boats out on the sea, doomed to seek tranquility. I don’t want it. You can’t have it. I don’t love you cuz I don’t know you, but I’ll respect you while you neglect me. You can kill me, but you can’t resurrect me. Now the last I checked, it was mutual respect that kept the handshakes high and the expectations low. And that’s the preference to me, a form of solidarity. That’ll keep our heads and feet on solid ground.

Who’s mind is this but my own? And I’ll open my mouth to cast a few stones.Well they say it’s wrong to say how you feel.Oh, but to keep it inside, well that would be a crime and that does not appeal to me. Disappointment does not scare me cuz I’ve disappointed so many schools churches and family, but they’re the ones who disappointed me. Do you earn portrayal as a human being through predetermined indentured service.Dancing to the tune of the “greater good” via the footprints painted on this dance floor.And what’s the fucking point to live up to the goals that were inflicted on your conscience. And you see the ones that the world says progressed slowly lose their passion…….To live , to strive against the preconceived ideas that they’ve been taught all their lives.To follow to obey and it chokes your fucking mind ,leaves you with nothing left to say. THIS IS NOT THE SOUNDTRACK TO YOUR FUCKING WORK DAY! And dreaming of the past won’t make the present go away. Do you even think it matters if you burn out or fade ? When you neglect the possibility of that mark you could have made. Well, it was mine to begin with and time will tell you that it’s still my own.

It’s sad to see that people don’t see what all the blindfolds in the world couldn’t hide.And in this fucked up place of drawing lines I choose neither side . “Kill ‘em all” ,they say while they use their flags to hide. They call it patriotic, that’s what they call pride,but from what I’ve been taught someone must have lied ‘ cuz it just seems like Mass Hysteria to me . An act of “terrorism” turned into a plot, to empty out your wallet and take everything you’ve got , fool the fucking people ,fill them up with hate, what the fuck’s it for ? We’re fueling up for war. They paint the perfect picture on the screen with the plot of “THEM”and “US” , but the lines have been skewed and when it comes down to the push of a button , it’s “US” that are screwed. So wave your fucking flag and say goodbye ‘cuz when the bombs start dropping you’ll choke on your pride and out of the ashes will come the suits and ties proclaiming lines drawn were really lies. And on separate shores, echoes will be heard straight from the graves saying “I,I told you so” An act of “terrorism” turned into a plot to empty out your wallet and take everything you’ve got , fool the fucking people, fill ‘em up with hate what the fuck’s it for ? We’re fueling up for war. Bandwagon patriotism : A glass eye for the blind, with your patriotic blinders , go off and kill your own kind.

Lets talk a little bit of prophecy don’t you know that death is technology, then you use the word “apocalypse”, well we’re doing it ourselves without your devils’ help Looking down at me for asking for spare change, but you’re quick to cough it up when Jesus Christ hands you a plate. Jesus wore a dress. He was dirty and depressed. A bastard just like you. Because his father left him too. A preacher panhandles everywhere he goes . Won’t make me any money cuz I’m not wearing the right clothes. Turn my water into wine and please don’t give me bread, the less I eat, the more I drink and maybe fuck my head, just maybe fuck my head.

“Support your troops” ? I can barely support myself. Let me wave my fucking pom-poms as they slaughter for wealth. Money I won’t ever have. Money I can’t see. Money to fund weapons to kill people just like me . I’m not Born to fight trained to kill Raised to keep those graveyards filled Born to fight trained to kill Cheer ‘em on for the blood they spill. Born to fight trained to kill (wooing sexy noise) Born to fight trained to kill Cheer ‘em on for the blood they spill The Bush administration have been naughty boys. They got caught playing with their nuclear toys.What will the people do ? What will they say ? It doesn’t fucking matter because we all feel safe. How much longer ‘til we’re all blown to hell? That’s an honest question as that nuclear tumor swells. What could I do? What the fuck could I say ? without you accusing me of being too cliché. I’m not Born to fight trained to kill Raised to keep those graveyards filled Born to fight trained to kill Cheer ‘em on for the blood they spill. Born to fight trained to kill (wooing sexy noise) Born to fight trained to kill Cheer ‘em on for the blood they spill My apathy tells me that its all been said and done , but my anger makes my mouth shoot off like a fucking gun. (then in an upswing of momentum this line is repeated once more)

(Holy Gibberish courtesy of the almighty) And then ……………. Hands to the sky, put your money on the plate . It’s like being held up under the guise of donate, “ Well come on and give us all that you’ve got,for the church, for my pockets, I mean the house of god” The entrance fee for heaven is expensive, you gotta pay or no one passes. So let’s all gather round and join in hands and shoot up with the opiate of the masses. Attack the conscience with promised lies, your paycheck is the only one that’s crucified, so go on “Be fruitful and multiply” so the next generation can keep us supplied.The man up front has come to teach us. Has he become the poor mans’ Jesus? Am I supposed to feel the pain and affliction, of some dead mother-fuckers’ crucifixion? When in fact it aint nothing more than fiction to me. Am I supposed to live my life under certain restrictions, cuz of some dead motherfuckers crucifixion, when in fact, hell it aint nothing more than fiction to me. Stuck to your lies like the nails on the cross, then preach to me and tell me I’m at a loss. Don’t want to buy what you’re trying to sell. So good day sir , I’ll see you,see you in hell. (repeat “in hell” until oxygen levels to brain become ridiculously low)

OOOh! that man must be sooo EXTREME , he’s got bleached blonde dreadlocks, he’s on cable T.V. Shoo! Shoo! Too many perfect tattoos, is it petty ? am I petty? I guess I really don’t care. But every footstep on this beach should be another body in the sand, from this throng of fucking vomit that can only think with their glands. Skin’s taught , battles bought , flesh vs. flesh . May the winner receive a Mattel cattle brand. A Natural wonder reduced to prime real estate, a stomping ground for wallet bearing cattle. Where you can purchase yourself a Brazilian cut diaper and a diamond encrusted baby rattle. And down by the waves where curfew’s enforced for “your own good”, your own “protection” of course, the sand is getting scarce and the beauty is a farce, and some fat feline fuck is smoking fat Cuban cigars. Nothing is real here and I wonder "how could that be"? but the silicone, concrete and Botox make the answer quite evident to me. Financial wonder made a natural blunder and I hope that some day those two will be switched , but my doubts are high maybe I should be too, while I’m trapped in this playground for the rich.