as in trains?

you said it would be different as i fell again to the floor
you said i wouldn't feel a thing this time
as you plunged that dagger in my side
blood knows no reason as it leaves me behind
I don't seem to remember signing a contract
but now i wish i had, help me i call
no one hears, not worth the effort, i just need to breathe
one, in, two, out, counting, not much use really
truth is, i'm dieing, truth is, it doesn't matter
I thought, you know
i actually had a plausible ideal that i'd have some last word
but now that the time is coming, i don't even care

there's a difference between the here and now,
sort of like the changes between channels as you pan across space
Not denying the fact of existence, just challenging it's worth
I don't need propoganda, i just need a word
a single syllable, a single moment to please my palpable mind
and as the thoughts flow in between reason and banter
bleeding seems so far away, so distant
that tunnel keeps coming, then going away
must be late for the 9.15 for Padington...

I saw then what i was missing, smack bang
maybe you'll see it too... i wrote it here
you just need to find it...

Fitting terms

how is it then, standing there watching, that you don't like the colour? I mean seriously. It's not even a bad colour, how is toup a bad colour? So relaxing makes you want to wallow in your own tranquallity, if you're lucky enough to have any. If you don't you can buy some at the door for a nice cheap price of $9.95.

100 ways not to get found

fortunately for all present, i have the pleasing ability to do nothing. Its a well paying job, try it.

It comes to my attention that i like food. Hence i shall go and eat some...
Exit stage right.

angst amongst anger

Urgently, stop... Will you run into the sun?
Beyond I lone, silhouette against the black
No quarter given, nothing gained
Disaster! I bleed, no one to hear me scream
Lies, all of it;
and I don't want it, don't need it
give me one reason to breathe
I would die, not give a damn
so much for the great and mighty plans
discarded, forgotten; i want of nothing,
I yell, blood curdling, last breath before the end
I know
people need to hear; I need to say
and know that what i give them is worth all this pain

Down to the bone, shattered
despised by all, they sense my power
and I am willing to fight
they're afraid, and knowing
cyanide effects the brain, kills soft
they're dieing, they need the keys
door's locked, looking but not finding
searching for a reason to give you
but i stopped caring, stopped fighting
and all this, this thing i call existence
not worth a dollar,
naked in the corner, I don't care
thats just it, isn't it...
nobody cares anymore

ranting of the seventh kind: I post therefore, you read

its funny how everything sounds right in my head. The way that circles are squares when needed, and dodecahedrons are hexagons. It all makes perfect sense until you try and make it work in the real world. I'm still working on that part, the whole its not really my head that's the problem its everyone else thing. I imagine that somebody will eventually find the solution and then all my problems can dissipate. Like they do in my head. Ah serenity.
Sadly no such thing is known to me, not even in my nice little idealistic realities i conjure up like a bad case of optimism after two lovely slices of overly priced chocolate cake. I oft wish that life was easier than slamming my fist into the wall every five seconds, just for kicks.
It is a funny thing, this life, the way we all wander round smelling roses, shooting our neighbors cause they looked at us funny, or drive bigger and nastier cars. I find it intriguing that we spend so much time looking inward that we forget that the real solutions aren't within... they're outside.
Get off your backside and stop wallowing all day long. If life was meant to be a wallow, there'd be way more mud and a heck of a lot more bikinis. Sometimes the thing we need to realise is that if we every once in a while stopped caring so much about ourselves and started to care more about others, our problems would become insignificant. For in helping another, trully you help yourself. Try it, its a proven principle. Im sure Paul would agree.

Parable of the psychiactrically insane aka angry music

So you wanna fight me, do you?
I hope you know how to flippen swim
there's no looking back for the future
cause the past is far to grim
somebody give me a gun now
so i can end this war in peace
nobody has to die here
well, maybe, just one
how is it you came here?
now i tell you to leave...
cause your moment has passed now
and the fun is about to begin
dark to light, light to dark
the soundings of the horn
forget all our learning
just to fall out on the way
fight me here, now, if you want to
but maybe you're too weak
the sands of time are not so forgiving
when poured through me
maybe its time you were beaten
finally
one time last

I will be your enemy
I will be your end
so if you come looking
don't see a man in dreads
instead see an anger
that is willing to see you dead

Revelations your time be here!
Wars and rumours of wars
tread carefully where the beast can hear
watch the world closely
watch it all fade away
but i've already won see
it says so right there
so pick up your belongings
and walk away from here
cause if i get onto you
heh
i can imagine far worse things
than death...

part 2

sentence to death
is the call of my soul
i will see you dead
before my life is through
shaken and forsaken
i will never be again
but you
oh you
I will kill you dead

meddle of the mind
mutilate the spirit
crush my very soul
those are just some of the tricks
that you have in your hand
but for how long
as the sun comes up now
i see a molten stream forming
off to the east
just north of here

So you think im kidding
well we'll see about that
get behind me satan or u shall become
the very first one to be killed by me
do not underestimate the power
that i hold
for within me lays the knowledge
of long ago
time is not an issue
i've got till eternity as well
I may not be immortal
but my soul is,
and its not as forgiving as me
so as you fall into the pit
one last time
guess who's the one pushing
hello, I'm fine

i refuse to work on your plantation no more
i will not be a number in your books
i will be your enemy
i will see you dead
i can not believe that you think you'll win
for I have forseen it
it says I win

part 3

So this is what its like to be at the bottom of the ocean
surronded by the life of that which is unknown
Damn, i thought it'd be different down here
but no, its all the same

so tired of this
so tired to sleep
damned if i want to; damned if i don't
somehow there is no patterns
and the world is gone so bleak
i just want to sit here and give the world a break

Right? so if i push the buttons that fill this void
and the silence becomes a sound
where do the dancers come from
where do they go
stuff it
i'll sit here and watch as the world falls apart
putting a gun in the hand, and a bullet in my mind
so
maybe if i want to just live
I'll have to go down fighting
and kill the brothers that live with me
huh
So whats with all the crap in my head
as i sit here and ponder all that should be dead

So carefully I place the knife to the floor
and roundhouse kick the man through the door
screw you, you rapist of the soul
I'll not take anything, not even your goal
fool
cause I ain't no nigga from out on the street
I ain't no mother that got down and beat
no
I and I with it and that be where it at
Jah be with me
and that be that
so screw all you lies and all your tears
I ain't gonna listen for fears
cause no matter what you sayin its crap
the lier the deciever u ain't even got a gat
I'll plug you and thug you and show you the door
cause I know what the hell I'm fighting for

Push me down
throw me over a hill
I ain't never sayin to satan be my will
stuff that
no
instead I'll be waiting here with a gun in my hand
facing the wind
and chanting Jah's name
cause He be with me
and you
(huh just a fool)
ain't got a knife in the dark that could ruin that crew
see
I'll be rolling in styles
befit for the king, I'll be rollin all over you
with my 40carrot bling
fool
so where you at when the war begins
I'll see you out the back
with a horse and a stable
and a man who knew Gabriel
cause at the end of the day
I'll show you who's king
for it be Him not you,
Him and not me

part 4

i fell down to the night, drawn from the sound
slow but determined, the colors will fade
dream of the real, but watch the alterior
somewhere we were forgotten
somehow they left us here for dead
foresight is over rated in a world long gone

brown leaves hiking their way to the footpath
somber with the weight of purpose
down ever 'wards
this is the sound of defeat
come closer only to be pushed away
go away only to be drawn near
befuddle the enemy with hints of intelligence
but know that the end is coming

the black the white is jumping
off the page and into my mind
from my mind it flows
like a river into my soul
decern the meaning through the puzzle of text
to one its a table to another its a pen
so where is the code now
when all is lost and gone
the bystanders are all at home
laugh and carjoile at the fact that they trusted a fool
but that is not for those here
that is for those already there
so pray now for them
they that are already gone
ghosts in a labrynth
of fallen hopes, dashed dreams
God gave them a story
but they lost it in the dirt
so i pray that we may remember
who to send clean clothes to

my third eye

i killed a man in my head
he was angry, not much was said
i watched him fall apon the ground that day
and watched on as he bled
he challenged me to honour him
but i couldn't lift a finger in his aid
in my third eye i was blind to all but me
contemplating sticking the blade deeper in his soul
crushing the darkness consuming us all
watching, waiting, sensing the end was nigh
i pulled out of my head and looked on by
what i saw then confused me to this day
it wasn't him dieing, it was me where he lay
i hadn't stabbed a stranger, oh no not I
i had put that fateful dagger into my own minds eye
seeking to right the wrongs for past eons ago
i did not understand that i did not know
my own self
and looking into the mirror now i see not me
but another
he is six foot three
his hands by his side
covered in blood
his feet show signs of a fight long won
there's a hole in his side
from where i dont know
but somehow it got there
and i don't question why
for its not me that i look apon in that mirror
on these days
its not a figment of a peculiar mind that creates visions
bent in time
no, its the only person i want to be
and he's living inside me, no longer dead
for he didn't die on no cross
just for fun nor pleasure
he died on that cross
for me
for me
for me

interior decor [a stream of consciousness]

sitting in the corner, with the blinds drawn shut
trying to keep the view simple
too many phrases too many stop and goes
all crowding in the station
waiting to get on board
but carefully manipulated by the surrondings
and bam they're all gone
fallen to the ground, and wailing
lost ideas and metaphors
i don't want them in my head
i want them dead
stuttering, get them out,
trying to tell you something
but the mindset is swollen
and the logic questionable at best
so i ask myself
do i want to make fire, and burn a tree
or do i wish for the silence that inhibits every breath
and slowly but surely causing me to fall behind
and i watch myself folornly
not much i can do
i yell and i scream
but i can't hear me
all those ideas
all those phrases
all those dreams
gone
all except one
and thats to move on
even though its one step forward ten steps back
never gaining always reversing
and never getting to where i want to be
rivers of mistakes and torrents of shackles
holding me back
so i got me some bolt cutters
and snapped them loose
but still, i can't seem to find the truth
and im still fighting to breathe
one step closer to the answer?
or one step further behind
I wish i could see here
but I am surely blind
All i wanted was a moment in this life of mine
whereapon i actually figured and got it in line
but surely enough
that was but a dream
and the only thing keeping my sanity
is the dream i keep for me

stunned silence

sometimes the silence says it all
watching the grass grow, watching it die
sometimes the last thing that was needed
was the first thing that entered
and the problem remains constant
nobody seems to know its alive...

theres an object, a shape of something in the corner
I lost count of the days, the months, the years
and its been there that whole time
brooding, like a wounded dog
waiting to be kicked just that one last time
and it happens
just as it knew it would
just as it predicted
and falling down for the millionth time he draws a breath and sighs
but as an object, he can't be living and so passes away and dies
now that corner smells a little funny
the scent was never quite right to begin,
but now its awful
the stench over powering, and the sight...
worse then a genocide
nobody cares about the shape in the corner
nobody gives a damn;
nobody lifted a finger to help him; nobody cried for him
for nobody knows of his trouble; nobody wants to know
they have there own little tea cups
and their own personal tornadoes
which to them seem out of this world
and the object; he's just an object
who really gives a hoot
he can't really bleed, he can't really feel
so why should we care about he?
cause that sticky thing on your foot ain't gum,
that paint you're using ain't red because they were out of blue
its red cause he bled all over you

now comes the denial, who's at fault you yell
running around pointing your finger and waving it like a flag!
If i'm to blame then you're to blame, and he's to blame as well,
cause you may as well keep running, for the blame game
will never be won...
blood drips from everyone's hands, whether we see it or we don't
coverting the very things we hold for granted,
and stealing from those that need,
we couldn't care less about our brother
he can hold his own head high
he don't need no other, he just needs to be alive
and therein we repeat it
the circle we call life
falling ever perpetually forward
till the only ones left to fight
are the ones stronger then the weaker
and that certainly ain't right
they that have the power often abuse it
and we say nothing at all
watch on, you silly minor
watch on don't cry
for everything will be alright
its true you may die now
but never fear, for America is here, they will come to your aid
and by America... i mean good luck with that

don't ever give your monkeys bananas they don't like to chew...

dieing, just a little inside
like the last time i nearly cried
and the popular opinion at the time
was that the crazy man had come to play
negative populations on the left side of the cortex
concentration campers here to stay now
and everyone gets to play,

forgetting all that i have learnt
and throwing them all away
putting the box outside the way
and nothing can stop me
except for this

this cancerous being on my right side
that sucking feeling in my blood
the realisation that death is closing
and that life is but a boat

somewhere lost amongst the colours
are all the things i thought i knew
but challenged by the constant flavours
there is only little i knew
digress and take note that the few that stand
are the few that remain
fallen and subjugated to the realm of reality
the rest of us lay
lost all hope and reason
we try and find us a game
but nothing works anymore
nothing sits anymore
only helplessness remains

looking into that deep dark hole
i realised that the sun was but a miner
digging its way forever
trying to cancel out the night
and its working
i can see it now before me
like a beacon leading me home
but then i stumble and i see dirt
and thats all i can remember
that same familiar taste
that same familiar rush
as i fall flat on my face for the millionth time, or more
something must be gained here
something must be learnt
that no matter how many times i've fallen
the earth can no longer keep me
and for that it can not be said
that i did not die trying

mask + disguise = incognito

its funny, how we all go along with the game
im ok, doing great, smile its all good,
doing all the right things
while slowly we fade away inside
like locusts eating our souls
burning out, dieing slow
and nothing helps to stop the hurt
shuffling about, everythings fine
no, no, its not me its you
i couldn't be the one hurting
i have to be fine
see i smile all the time
masks and disguises
running around incognito
no one knows the truth
we're all in pain
we're all in shame
wave a gun
bullet the sky
nope i'm good
see i bleed like you
wait thats black, like oil
seeping out, stand my ground
no it can't be so
i have blood, surely i do
but what i see says otherwise
what i feel, it lies to me
what i know?
it has to be...
its all i have
all i know
all i understand
what left do i have if they go?
nothing
and thats why we hurt
we go around marauding as though we've got it
but obviously we don't
stick up the hand
wave it about
im sinking and can't get out
help me...
its not to much to ask...
is it?