795 lines
23 KiB
Plaintext
795 lines
23 KiB
Plaintext
|
|
_
|
|
| \
|
|
| \
|
|
| | \
|
|
__ | |\ \ __
|
|
_____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________
|
|
| ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ |
|
|
| | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | |
|
|
| | /________/ | | / / /________/ | |
|
|
| | | | / / | |
|
|
| | | |/ / | |
|
|
| | | | / | |
|
|
| | | / | |
|
|
| | |_/ | |
|
|
| | | |
|
|
| | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | |
|
|
| |________________________________________________________________| |
|
|
|____________________________________________________________________|
|
|
|
|
...presents... POetRIE
|
|
by Obscure Images
|
|
|
|
>>> a cDc publication.......1989 <<<
|
|
-cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
|
|
_______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
|
|
|
|
This is a small compilation of some of the poems that I have written in
|
|
the last few months. There are more then these, but these ones were
|
|
conveniently already typed. Most of these poems are experiments that I have
|
|
done to help me relate to the real world. Rememeber; art is lies, form is
|
|
evil, and most importantly of all, rhyming sucks. Poetry is not haiku. Poetry
|
|
is not dramatic monologue. Poetry isn't Dada. Poetry is not anything. Poetry
|
|
is YOU as an individual. The words on the page are not poetry until you
|
|
experience it for yourself. Poetry is everywhere. Poets who squabble over
|
|
form, style, rhyming, and other mechanics are pretentious fools who like to
|
|
hear themselves talk. I do not apologize for anything in my poems, punctuation
|
|
is simply there as decoration as I don't care really where it is.
|
|
|
|
-Oi
|
|
|
|
"Beauty must be convulsive or it will not be at all"
|
|
-Andre Breton _Nadja_
|
|
|
|
|
|
-------------------
|
|
|
|
Hope fading fast
|
|
Destruction iminent
|
|
The global annihilation
|
|
We all want
|
|
In our private hearts
|
|
Is drawing near.
|
|
The time is up
|
|
We've got thirty minutes left
|
|
Say your prayers
|
|
To your respective gods
|
|
As for me
|
|
I embrace the sweetness of oblivion
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------
|
|
|
|
flowers.
|
|
float softly to the pondlike
|
|
grave,
|
|
An uncovered pit filled with water.
|
|
flowers
|
|
rest on the surface
|
|
a gloomy sentiment of rememberance
|
|
wasted on a fool
|
|
fool fool fool fool
|
|
flowers
|
|
|
|
---------------------------
|
|
|
|
Avarice in birds soars,
|
|
But men can not fly.
|
|
He wallows in greed,
|
|
like a pig eating feed.
|
|
Why must there be lust
|
|
for a green piece of paper?
|
|
They think sex is vulgar
|
|
yet thrive on seeing people bleed
|
|
what kind of culture is based on death
|
|
while shunning life.
|
|
SINKING IN THE MIRE OF OUR OWN STUPIDITY
|
|
The time is at hand
|
|
to start again
|
|
To destroy the past before it destroys the future
|
|
to stop the cycle of decay
|
|
Do not stand in the way, my friends
|
|
Or you will be destroyed like all the rest.
|
|
|
|
---------------------------
|
|
|
|
hell
|
|
isnt really that hot
|
|
its cracked up to be what its not
|
|
sure its a real pit
|
|
but the only flames are those in the hearths at night
|
|
hell can be quite cold
|
|
if you are up north
|
|
that isnt to say it doesnt get warm
|
|
it does
|
|
you dont have to search really hard for hell
|
|
it's right outside your front door
|
|
|
|
--------------------------
|
|
|
|
tra la la my dog ate your roses
|
|
I'm not going to subject subject you to more of my dada ram-m-mblings at the
|
|
moment. I would just like to say chucka chucka chucka dwango dwango dwango
|
|
chucka chucka boin boin boin. Meet my friends, meet my family, they all have a
|
|
hand in my destiny. Damn the roses and pull the stop. A rose is what I got,
|
|
from my darling dead. A red blood rose coming from her head. It wasn't my fault
|
|
that she stabbed herself. I didn't believe she'd really do it. I still thank
|
|
her for that final flower flowing from her frame. Tra La La La La La ahhhhh.
|
|
Boom Bang whubba whubba ching. It's halfway past the mating time for small
|
|
animals named Bill. Bill Boring swine sheep sleep slam in the nocturne of my
|
|
eroding sulleness. I need a lobotomy, I keep having these dreams, I wish I were
|
|
fred. Fred is good. What if everyone in the world was named Bob? Everyone but
|
|
me. I would be Paul, and I would be the last nonconformist in the pond. At
|
|
least you wouldnt forget a name...ever. Ubu baby come swallow my friend hare.
|
|
He needs a cleaning. Cleanser. Scratch Scratch. Rug rub swine. Hey Hey Cicce R
|
|
U well? I B FIne If U will E E E Reads a ski. :L EEEKKE raped rodents followers
|
|
rodents flowers bitebitebite tickle tickle wubba what. OI OI OI! the head is on
|
|
the line, when will you find time when will you find time for love?
|
|
|
|
------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Sig Sig Sig My Flashing Forehead
|
|
|
|
Feel Ye Sorry for the sparrow on the floor lest it rise up and maim your cat
|
|
whollop me , banker, or I will have your wallet on my mantle
|
|
bleed for me, bleed it green
|
|
|
|
"Hey guy, I raped your sister before your eyes and then cut your throat, doo wa
|
|
doo wa doo wa, shimmmy shimmmy hey!"
|
|
|
|
Dali is dead. I am not happy at all. My Dog! WHY HAVE YOU FORESAKEN ME!
|
|
Demons from my nostrils climb the face and enter the tainted eyeballs
|
|
dont touch my skin. It isnt really there
|
|
bend over and pick up that soap
|
|
I'll grind you that peanut butter in my veg-o-matic
|
|
Tear me apart with a pick axe
|
|
I'm not really in the mind
|
|
it JUstLooKs Likeit
|
|
##_apartforthepresentsyouwouldbeworthlesstotheclaws))
|
|
You will pay in pain
|
|
pre-menstrual syndrome
|
|
the pain is all mine
|
|
i hurt with the battlemarks of my distant past
|
|
the clawing out of my young eye
|
|
glass bitten forehead screams for mercy
|
|
there is no hope
|
|
there is no hope
|
|
there is no hope for the future
|
|
there is no hope for the past
|
|
there is no past
|
|
there is no future
|
|
there is only pain
|
|
there is only pain
|
|
there is only the dishwater of my imagination
|
|
I am the one in control
|
|
Please dont bite the hand that hits you
|
|
rip it off rip me off
|
|
(YeathoughIwalkthroughthevalleyoftheshadowofdeathiwillnotfearforthereisnohope.)
|
|
I am held by something else
|
|
something inhuman
|
|
lest meat become maggotswarmed
|
|
fill me with bitterness
|
|
fill me with butter mess
|
|
I'm involved in a greater reward
|
|
by my green candle rip my hair off of my brow
|
|
tell me there is no past
|
|
tell me there is no future
|
|
tell me what you will, I will refuse
|
|
I will Refuse and defacate on my rat
|
|
rat rat rat rat rat rat r=at r-a*t
|
|
I'm involved in a greater reward
|
|
1000 dollars for the man who kills me
|
|
Demonspawn
|
|
rock my body
|
|
stone my soul
|
|
HIT ME HIT ME HIT ME HIT ME
|
|
I HATE I HATE I HATE I AM FURY!
|
|
ESTA ES UNA PARA LAS MUCHACHAS!
|
|
Sucking the silt from the bottom of your river honey
|
|
tellmewhy
|
|
asshole
|
|
my mind is clouded with the sins of my ants
|
|
farming her cropland
|
|
Irritate Irritate
|
|
MY MIND IS THE STONE oF THE PEOPLE
|
|
WHET WHET WHET WHET
|
|
Slam bam thank you ma'am
|
|
QuicksandASelpING ASPERTAME
|
|
Yvette is my god
|
|
BOB BOB BOB BOB RIP MY THROAT OUT
|
|
SWINE!
|
|
Art is dead
|
|
God is art.
|
|
You can never go home again
|
|
you can NEVER go ((home))[{AGAIN}]
|
|
Rip the foetus from the WOMB
|
|
Barumba Barumba MECCA MECCA BOOM
|
|
Don't tell me that my name is paul
|
|
it is not Bruce.
|
|
Sycamore
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The End
|
|
|
|
Of Reality Is Near
|
|
|
|
Broken Heads Crumble At My Feet
|
|
|
|
Good Evening
|
|
|
|
|
|
--------------------------
|
|
|
|
Traumatized
|
|
Desperate Gleam
|
|
Ripping open your skull
|
|
Tunneling in your brain.
|
|
Meandering Circumstance
|
|
Killer Decoy
|
|
The worms all dance
|
|
On their feast of man
|
|
The worms are crawling through
|
|
The plate glass venue of your brain
|
|
Your soul belongs to them
|
|
Where is your beloved now?
|
|
Why doesnt he save you?
|
|
|
|
Scream Twist
|
|
Taunt Wrist
|
|
Scream Taunt
|
|
Twist Wrist
|
|
|
|
Why?
|
|
|
|
--------------------
|
|
|
|
I was thinking "What can I do to illustrate the moment of illumination when
|
|
your adolescent consciousness turns into an adult one, and how can I fit power
|
|
tools into the picture"
|
|
|
|
--------------------
|
|
|
|
Fortunately screams DROWN you in pools of noise.
|
|
Gasping for silence only to gag on more.
|
|
There is no escape.
|
|
You are MINE.
|
|
Thrashing and Frothing,
|
|
In my deep brown eyes.
|
|
You are mine.
|
|
You are not in control,
|
|
living as a swan.
|
|
You are a puppet,
|
|
yet I am a pawn.
|
|
Slaving and slavering for your interest
|
|
Burning my flesh for one healing glance
|
|
from your powerful eyes
|
|
Melting and reforming
|
|
Internal blessing
|
|
you are mine
|
|
no.
|
|
I am YOURS
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
|
|
|
_ /| There is no power in this world ___|___
|
|
\'o.O' greater then lies and manipulation. __|__
|
|
=(___)= ___|___
|
|
U |
|
|
|
|
------------------
|
|
|
|
My love is like a rusty nail.
|
|
The bright crimson sweetness flows down its length
|
|
when it cleanly punctures the deperate heart.
|
|
Punctured and pure in the beginning
|
|
Time causes it to fester
|
|
leaving a rotting malignancy rotting through my heart.
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
|
|
|
I am drawing a picture,
|
|
hunched over my drawing table-
|
|
|
|
My head implodes.
|
|
I am in the land of the gecko lizards.
|
|
They swarm around me and call me god.
|
|
|
|
I draw a picture of a dog.
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Your suicide was
|
|
The fashion statement of the year.
|
|
Everyone clamored to be like you.
|
|
Conformists to the end.
|
|
Ten million died before the trend changed
|
|
again.
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------
|
|
|
|
The charcoal grey ruins of the small
|
|
town in southern california,
|
|
down a bit further then L.A.,
|
|
were full of broken memories.
|
|
Twisted and mangled corpses
|
|
lay on the ground, where the blast
|
|
sent them in their final moments.
|
|
I dare you to find any life here,
|
|
all you will see is decay.
|
|
A government test of a new terrorist weapon.
|
|
A nuke the size of a ball-point pen.
|
|
Small enough to fit in a pocket,
|
|
big enough to gut this town.
|
|
The town that was blown up to entertain the men
|
|
in the occult pentagon of Washington.
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
The secret behind closed doors.
|
|
Five floors of death, doom, and party supplies.
|
|
This store has everything
|
|
a young arayan could want.
|
|
Guns, bombs, blow up black men, and torture toys
|
|
only a Nazi could love.
|
|
|
|
--------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
I will traverse the lines that border insanity
|
|
If only to save your soul.
|
|
Insanity is reality
|
|
seen through a child's eye.
|
|
|
|
--------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Metamorphosis
|
|
-------------
|
|
|
|
The open wound spits out a burst
|
|
of irridescent synasthetics,
|
|
with the mirthful destruction
|
|
that proceeds the creation
|
|
of something new.
|
|
|
|
Laughing a perverse little tune,
|
|
the cobalt-blue landscape
|
|
is plowed over by glowing, blood-red
|
|
plasma.
|
|
|
|
The molten life cools,
|
|
turning brownish-red
|
|
like the color of blood
|
|
found on the scene of a day old accident.
|
|
|
|
The crusting flow crumbles from within.
|
|
A shape is formed,
|
|
the supple curvatures cause the crimson light to flow from them
|
|
like molten wax.
|
|
The pink form stretches like a rubber band,
|
|
and all is good.
|
|
|
|
---------------------------------
|
|
|
|
A corpselike pallor came over my face
|
|
When I saw you laying there,
|
|
The gash in your abdomen spewing blood,
|
|
I was ripped to shreds,
|
|
As if I had fallen into a combine.
|
|
At that instant I felt your pain.
|
|
My life ended on the day that you died.
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------
|
|
|
|
I've been inflicted with the disease.
|
|
It is not the one that shrivels your skin.
|
|
It is not the one that rots your bones.
|
|
It is not the one that makes your left hand fall off.
|
|
It is not the one that is spread by sexual contact.
|
|
I've been inflicted with the disease,
|
|
the one that comes from the flag.
|
|
God Bless America.
|
|
Yeah, right.
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------
|
|
|
|
Stop tearing me apart as if I were a plaything
|
|
for a 2 year old.
|
|
Stop fucking with my mind, like you do to all the others
|
|
Stop taking advantage of me you filthy worm.
|
|
Crawl back into your hole and drown.
|
|
I'm not fishing you out this time.
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------
|
|
|
|
There is no reason for the wholesale belief
|
|
in the existance of a being of higher order.
|
|
What good has there been that hasn't been done by ourselves?
|
|
What evil has there been that we haven't done by ourselves?
|
|
Thank you very much, Herr Jehovah, we're doing fine all by ourselves.
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------
|
|
|
|
Take Take Take Take
|
|
We all need to take from someone.
|
|
The world is not give and take.
|
|
There is only take.
|
|
We all need to take from someone.
|
|
There is only take.
|
|
Take from my pocket and call it a gift.
|
|
I'll take from your purse, and do the same.
|
|
We beg, we steal, we heist, we borrow.
|
|
Every single one of us.
|
|
Anyone who tells you any different is a liar.
|
|
A true thief is one that won't admit his thievery.
|
|
These are the truths of the world,
|
|
so live with them
|
|
and take what you want, it's yours for the taking.
|
|
|
|
--------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Razorblade kisses
|
|
so sweet and so sour.
|
|
how true indeed is that which cuts and bleeds.
|
|
An honest wound , the gash that hurts
|
|
but feels good.
|
|
|
|
---------------------------------
|
|
|
|
I pledge allegiance to the flag
|
|
of the united states
|
|
of
|
|
america
|
|
and true to the
|
|
republic
|
|
for which it stands
|
|
one
|
|
nation
|
|
under
|
|
god
|
|
indivisible
|
|
with liberty and justice for those who can pay for it.
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------
|
|
|
|
I refuse to die for something I don't believe in
|
|
I don't believe in my government.
|
|
I don't believe in your government.
|
|
I don't believe in the corporations that really rule.
|
|
I will die for the things that matter.
|
|
I will die for my freedom to speak as I wish.
|
|
I will die for my girlfriend.
|
|
I will kill for my belongings
|
|
I will kill for my beliefs.
|
|
I will kill and I will die,
|
|
can't you see it in my eyes?
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Life is but a glimmer in the pool of twilight sewage.
|
|
A stick in a vat of shit.
|
|
Once in a while the stick comes to the surface,
|
|
but it mostly is towed under by the turbulent currents
|
|
that race through our lives.
|
|
I'm drowning in a pool of rotting offal
|
|
that was dumped from the people up there.
|
|
If I can drag myself out I will kill them all.
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------
|
|
|
|
I will hold you down.
|
|
I will tear you up.
|
|
I will spit you out.
|
|
I will take you in.
|
|
I will love you.
|
|
I will
|
|
I will
|
|
I will
|
|
I will help you live.
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------
|
|
|
|
I was sitting under a table in an abandoned room,
|
|
not a light in the house.
|
|
Curled in the corner like an abused child.
|
|
Too many people,
|
|
too much hostility,
|
|
I have failed.
|
|
I lost face in a crowd of people.
|
|
I must get away before I tear myself apart.
|
|
Don't.
|
|
Touch.
|
|
Me.
|
|
I.
|
|
Am.
|
|
Unclean.
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------
|
|
|
|
My nature isn't the green and yellow of the trees.
|
|
My nature is the bloody red that flows around in us all.
|
|
A young sapling chopped down before his time,
|
|
Roots still forming,
|
|
ready to engorge upon the earth.
|
|
Blood runs down the hill from the sapling boy,
|
|
forming a pool at the bottom.
|
|
The ducks wade through, coloring their webbed feet crimson.
|
|
A squirrel runs around the growing pool on its quest for a nut.
|
|
A dog laps at the puddle for a moment, taking his fill.
|
|
There is only the sounds of the birds
|
|
performing their cheery little dirge.
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Haiku:
|
|
|
|
Churning, Burning it.
|
|
Water buffalo sitting.
|
|
Rice paddies go grey.
|
|
|
|
Tell Thee Thine Weasel,
|
|
Wherefore art thou running to?
|
|
Away from thee man.
|
|
|
|
Wilting, Baking the
|
|
obnoxious fumes that come from
|
|
the steaming volcano.
|
|
|
|
Escape thee rowdy
|
|
Ramrod; Flee, into the still
|
|
nighttime forest, flee.
|
|
|
|
Ripe ( Into The Lake )
|
|
Spells of demonic charm wait
|
|
to prey upon you.
|
|
|
|
Waddle to the shore
|
|
my friend, don't allow them to
|
|
plant you like a tree.
|
|
------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
The Morning
|
|
Air Sings w
|
|
ith the che
|
|
ery songs o
|
|
f the birds
|
|
. A breeze
|
|
sways the m
|
|
an-made tre
|
|
e. The stre
|
|
ets are sta
|
|
rting to fi
|
|
ll up. Hous
|
|
es are rele
|
|
asing their
|
|
nighttime c
|
|
aptives. Th
|
|
|
|
e central square gathe
|
|
rs up the aimlessly wa
|
|
|
|
ndering people. The wh
|
|
ispering of the formin
|
|
|
|
ging crowd grows large
|
|
r. A certain yearning
|
|
|
|
is building up amongst
|
|
the common rabble. A d
|
|
|
|
oor opens ,
|
|
causing a r
|
|
ipple in th
|
|
e crowd.As if by magic,
|
|
the crowd parts like the red sea.
|
|
That is what they really w
|
|
ant to see. The red sea.
|
|
Figures app ear in the d
|
|
oorway. A m an in black
|
|
with a bibl e leads a pr
|
|
ocession. T he second ma
|
|
n is Sherri f Brown. Beh
|
|
ind the ste rn police of
|
|
ficer is th main attract
|
|
ion. The ou tlaw Jimmy J
|
|
ames. He ha s been found
|
|
guilty of r obbing the r
|
|
ich bankers of town. The
|
|
crowds surg es around fo
|
|
a gimpse of Jimmy's face
|
|
. They just cannot see t
|
|
hat he wont conform to t
|
|
he visage o f terror the
|
|
y all deman d to see. Th
|
|
e group get s to the gal
|
|
lows. Jimmy climbs up th
|
|
e the stair s. Sherrif B
|
|
rown motion s him to the
|
|
knotted rop e hanging abo
|
|
ve a trap door. The crowd chants. The s
|
|
herrif takes hold of the lever an
|
|
pulls. Jimmy gasps once a
|
|
nd is left swinging
|
|
in the wind
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Revolution sways the flow of the psychic energy flowing from
|
|
the inner beings that reside inside your head.
|
|
Have lunch, lets do lunch, baby.
|
|
Tell me where you keep your money.
|
|
I'm dying to get away from it all.
|
|
I can't stop the twitching in my toes, they are
|
|
green green brown green
|
|
with some kind of rotting disorder.
|
|
Anarchist clubs, a contradiction in terms,
|
|
group together, yet another contradiction, and smash small animals with large
|
|
wet dogs.
|
|
Trained seals die in an auto accident,
|
|
they most certainly were drinking that ol Brazillian rotgut
|
|
since they were preserved without the help of Mr Undertaker
|
|
.......!!!STOP THIS SHIT!!!........
|
|
No , No I will not, you cannot stop these fingers that are typing through the
|
|
mystical man from beyond my forebrain.
|
|
Neural cortex, tasting like grey cheese spread on a bread of bloody skin.
|
|
Watch out for the bones y'all.
|
|
Head stompin' to that old time religion
|
|
Whitemeat skin
|
|
Chicken of the worshippers of the man down below.
|
|
Ho Ho Ho, Old Nick
|
|
Transfer the blame
|
|
maybe the shame of the wholloping will tickle
|
|
your memory.
|
|
Maybe not.
|
|
|
|
Kill or crunch, dive or bite the bullet.
|
|
Take me from this evil land
|
|
I need escape I need release
|
|
Release me!
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Just For The Fun Of It
|
|
----------------------
|
|
|
|
The blue sky yawns,
|
|
as the twilight creatures sink back into their homes.
|
|
A peep of light, coming up from the horizon
|
|
producing a red-orange mist to form at its edges.
|
|
The yellow globe rises further into the sky ,
|
|
Burning up the mist easily.
|
|
|
|
"Roger , High command. We've got a Defcon 2"
|
|
The crevice in the far away mountain yawns and
|
|
then closes it's maw,
|
|
leaving the world behind.
|
|
|
|
"Situation developing at an accelerated rate, Sir."
|
|
"Move it down to DefCon 1."
|
|
The planes are launched , the silos are awakened,
|
|
all is in readiness.
|
|
|
|
Children climbing from their wooly cocoons,
|
|
their parents drinking their coffee,
|
|
televisions turn on,
|
|
to spout some useless garbage.
|
|
|
|
"We interrupt this program for a special report.
|
|
The Department of Defense has just alerted us that
|
|
the Soviet crisis has accelerated to DefCon 1"
|
|
Defcon 1
|
|
Defcon 1
|
|
Panic.
|
|
Get the children to the basement.
|
|
Stampede.
|
|
Get out of town.
|
|
|
|
"Sir, satelites see a launch."
|
|
"Get me the president."
|
|
"Yes Mr. President, we'll launch"
|
|
Sending word to the silos.
|
|
Defcon 0.
|
|
Nuclear war.
|
|
|
|
30 minutes left.
|
|
Highway is jammed.
|
|
Evacuation is useless.
|
|
Move out onto the lawn.
|
|
Watch it all end.
|
|
|
|
Star wars failed.
|
|
They're all coming in.
|
|
"At least we're locked up tight"
|
|
Planetary fireworks show.
|
|
Sure looked pretty on the satelite.
|
|
|
|
Time passes, and the dust settles.
|
|
One thousand years of recovery.
|
|
The world is new again.
|
|
A fuzzy little animal scurries behind a rock.
|
|
|
|
---------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
dollarsigns
|
|
signs
|
|
dolldolldoll
|
|
arsignsar
|
|
I
|
|
TheNew
|
|
AMERICAN
|
|
FLAG There is only Black
|
|
AND WHITE no
|
|
GREY AREA. you
|
|
are all RIGHT
|
|
OR ALL WRONG.
|
|
THE LAW WORKS
|
|
FOR THOSE WHO
|
|
CAN pay FOR
|
|
IT. The concept
|
|
of the old flag is
|
|
abolished. there is no
|
|
justice. there is no
|
|
liberty, unless your
|
|
CREDIT iS Good...
|
|
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
The Running Days.
|
|
Innocence dies in the street.
|
|
A former friend lies on the road,
|
|
Blood streaming from his eyesockets.
|
|
Cleansing the pavement,
|
|
Washing away the sins.
|
|
With another sin.
|
|
Just turned nine years old,
|
|
He told the police what he saw.
|
|
Gangboys gouged his eyes out
|
|
And left him to die in the street.
|
|
The RUNNING DAYS ARE GONE.
|
|
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
The twitching stops sometimes.
|
|
It always starts again.
|
|
I try to stop it, but it just keeps doing it.
|
|
I gnawed on my arm for a while,
|
|
Just to feel the blood flowing from me.
|
|
I have no mind for repeating myself.
|
|
Repeating myself. Repeating myself.
|
|
My doggie likes the taste of blood,
|
|
I must taste like a steak.
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
The Beginning is the end,
|
|
The End is near.
|
|
Come over the river my friend,
|
|
Let's kill people until the end is here.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Obscure Images 1989
|
|
_ _ _____________________________________________________________________
|
|
/((___))\|The Convent..........619/475-6187 The Dead Zone.........214/522-5321
|
|
[ x x ] |Demon Roach Undrgrnd.806/794-4362 Greenpeace's IGB......916/673-8412
|
|
\ / |PURE NIHILISM........517/337-7319 The Switchboard.......718/358-9209
|
|
(' ') |Tequila Willy's GSC..209/526-3194 time centre...........312/377-0359
|
|
(U) |=====================================================================
|
|
.ooM |(c)1989 cDc communications by Obscure Images. 04/29-05/09/89-#105
|
|
\_______/|All Rights Pissed Away.
|
|
|