32

it fucking swells
turns the oceans instide out
crustaceans on their backs
and whales sick from the oxygen
it fucking grows
the impending doom upon our sea life
the ocean it fucking swells
it brings its own end
along with those seaside dwellers
their lives are over, their homes are gone
at the hands of poseiden
his mighty trident
his fucking will
his fucking will
HIS FUCKING WILL
unearths the undersea volcanoes
it unearths the business of fallen heroes
and between our hands
no one is a hero
everyone is fucked
everyone is a piece of god damn shit
and I know
because I live the life you live
and I fuck the scum you fuck
and i confide in the wealth you do
we are one in the same
you fucking masacre of a human being
you fucking regular.
you fucking mess.

31

i am the remorse you feel with others hands between your thighs, the beating palms down your spine, and the curved massacre from deaths sowing tool, the terror, the famine, the variable, to your feet and back to your knees, the terror, the famine, the regret, i sink into your skin and swim within your sin. I am the hatred you feel staring back through this collection of gray matter left from your filthy existence. the terror, the famine, the release. youll flow through time, forgotten and lost, the way it should be. the terror, the famine, the resistance. i'll be the memorys so fond, the way you wanted to be remembered.

30

its after hours in this meaningless struggle of a bar
concave in funds keeping only the faithful within its doors
under lock and key
and those doors, have locked me out refusing to let me swallow some poison
i'm no longer content with this empty street
and this empty pint glass, i've filled it with my own vomit.
what i've just spewed between the product of blown glass and extensive heat
is the remainder of my childhood
the few drops of passion left
the forgotten memories
i've fought for them with tooth and nail
i'm under review against gods court
and lady liberty has her own fucking line drawn
lacquer and liquor
lime and bile
bottoms up
forage for food alliterate every single dream you've dreamnt about me
sin into a series of heathen pride
i don't even know myself
but i'm pushing myself to years of decay

29

and this is the end of days
and sand blows across our blotted skin
rorschach and the unwilling make us all the more tired
weight on out shoulders and blood on our camels back
assassinated the holyness among our shepards staves
their robes wrung of all their blood
like famine across the plain.

28

the past is the past
and the future is fucked
because im drowning in a deep sea of bones and table scraps.
i'm feeding your filthy fucking mouth
with dense doses of codeine
this brick house
oh this brick house I call my castle.

I FUCKING LAID EVERY BRICK DOWN FOR YOU
follow this road
follow his lead
follow her seams
let them lead you into temptation

stone by stone, i'll kill the witch in you
warlock I am and demon i'll die.
can you feel the witchcraft spewing from my character flaws?

theres no ring on my hand but there's a ring around my head
protected by the grace of heaven
and walking on the flames of hell
i'll take this hacksaw and cut you down
into centimeter thick slices of fucked flesh
meat on the table where you belong
claw you will
but your talon's theyre useless.
the mercury i've force fed you
i'll drag each piece of skin through shit
sew it all back up.

i hope you enjoy the taste.
I hope you swallow the knife
i pray you'll fix this hole in your chest
because the heartless no longer control me.
and the good graces of your heathen lord
well his robe decorates my chariot.
grab your abacus and do the math.

27

not often do I bring your ends about myself
i leave that to the hunters and the killers
but I would love to see you suffer so terribly
I must be graceful because no one can catch me
in this act where I pull bone from flesh

its gotten to the point where I can look in the mirror
and only recognize the father I never knew
morphing all the curves and remains
from last nights 40 ounces and 40 proof
the bile and blood staining the toilet
and the forgotten promises to raise my children right

its true i've needed to get away from myself
even taken the 5 a.m. through tokyo
looking for my empty promises
but i'll never throw whats left of myself
away from the ones who loved me the most
the crying child unaware of the scum you were

vocals and money can only go so far
especially when he was of age, the funding became extinct
the love i've seen perish in myself
and the myths ive seen fade with advances in science
will never amount to the disdain i hold for
fathers in this country

without saying a word you could have brought
those dreams of dinosaurs and robots back to my dreams
but without saying a word you destroyed
the small things that your supposed to give in youth

im truthfully quite thankful I dont have all of your traits
the ones where I abandon messes i've made
I can smile and take all your shit or lack there of
because that's what men do
we spill some blood, and we clean the mess
with all the trimmings

but youre one of those pilgrims
pillaging the rightful owners of the land you sold
just like your soul with no regard
to those who depending on your loyalty
but whats that worth, Arthur died years ago
and Excalibur was quickly buried
honor seems more of a threat than a promise in my eyes

the reasons I doubt myself and who I am
all lay blame to knowing people such as yourself
walk this earth
and still sleep soundly at night.

26

vandalize the cauterized wounds breaking our traditions
not enough science to fill our lungs
nor enough socialism to keep our pockets full
manifesto's to bring militia's to arms
against our own souls we take up fire arms
we can scribe will's and testaments on parchment
keep our secrets within our concrete walls
but bricks will bring out the strength in our weakness
your shotgun will ring
hell's bells will sing

to doom is our prophets foresight
from redemption is our means of transportation
but the throbbing in our skulls
creates the beat to our hearts
when our esophagus's are filled with others bile
and the streets filled of carcase and carrion
crows feast upon cornea and christ's blood
the ripper, he loots the disemboweled
cash for all of the abandoned merchandise
money in a world breathing upon is own deterioration
cash in your chips
buy yourself a raft to live your last on