ASK iAN * You’re A Sonic Boom
i find Nostalgia a cumbersome bore
and the Future a Revolting Regret
Bang the Drum slowly indeed
Only when the crowd breaks off into individuals
does the individual digest the true perception
a flaccid water stripped tit...milkless of gloss & pumpf*
Aghast at all the Life Support Outlets
and Dead National News
Does Thou Callest Me Thankless
for i have cast no heart into
or Ancient Bilk
Knowing the score is
half of Moving
and when the Modern Sisyphus
collects the rest of the overdue truth
will be far too pissed out to care to Move that Mother
fucker of a
Let the Judge cast it's cordial stones
Let the Mongers mingle with the henchmen of Holy hats
and stars that dangle stripes
oil IS blood
A hunting knife
an Anvil, a sleeping pill
as the center for disease control
doses out free samples
You should concern yourself with more important things...like constituting the soft shades inside of Golden octagons...or capturing a smile to a smile without a camera...cry because You are Alive not because You are going to d.i.e.
good motherfuckin' right On Tears...like old Jazz knifers, strapped saints, and the whispering kind...
The World wasn't meant to be saved
it was meant to be dreamt...Our Patience can't last forever...for Christ' sake, You lose interest after an hour of holding a flower whilst standing still...
Be Your Own Joy Division
Be Your Own...
Be Your Own Garage of Revision
Be Your Own...
Be Your Own damned birth of Lightning
and let Lou Reed restwalk his soles...because you're discovery of the velvet underground
is something he really doesn't wanna
Fun to discover that music
Not fun to Regurgitate all those Years Ago... .*
Different things mean Different things to Different People... .*
IF You get Older
You will See that Junk was a lie
sold to You by those Liars You rail against...like old gangsters coming to the realization that the turf
they died for was nothing more than rental property...owned Yes, by those Liars...
It's bought and sold...
again and about...
Keep the colours in the back of your mind for future furniture/funeral photo use
as the stars belong to all of Us...and nothing.
It's harder a harder strain to lift a weightless object
than it is to cast a 300 pound piece of shit towards the burning Sun...
Life is a burning sheet of your own Wild tablature...or a stone you stumbled upon and casted with idiot anger into a soft pond...creating ripples similar to stormy radio frequencies...don't eat like Goya...rather boil your water like a hostage and drink it with spoiled fruit, like a prisoner's concoction, but swallow it slow, like a snake, like the deserted with little to Go...like a wolf foregoing the fucking of many to rest in the Rose Pussy of Reimbursed tomorrows...
Gandhi made a mark on this planet
but nobody follows the teachings
so don't spend your time trying to make a name for yourself in History...instead
mark your time on the lives of individuals
you come into contact with...Oh! That's that girl that lent me 5 bucks when i had nothing!
That's the boy that gave me his coat when it Rained last night!
It doesn't matter in the big fuck all...
Do it for Yourself...crawl from the mud...and have some style on yer own...
Suicide is always the first option on the table...Go for the 3rd option...which is Ride
The hazy Summer Octagons
Write the Winter Madness
Cut Autumnal Wood with Knife
Drink from Spring
By losing Everything sometime far-off...