I heard them say that the meek shall reign on earth, phantasmal myriads of sane bucolic birth, I've seen the rapture in a starving baby's eyes , inchoate
Above us lay the burdens, Below us lay the truth, We're somewhere in the middle, And we're all discontent too Is someone watching over you? Inside, they
hey, do what you want, but don't do it around me idleness and dissipation breed apathy, I sit on my ass all god damn day a misanthropic anthropoid with
There was a boy who had too many toys And an ache inside of his bones, He sought extrication through chemical vocation, And now he just answers to tones
hey, everybody's looking but they never can see, all the angst, corruption and the dishonesty, think about the times and places you've never known, you
known today, As we blow ourselves away Tell me is there anything so sure? Rapacity, tenacity, capacity, for more! Like a dog that feeds until he suffers
see, there's a girl who's afraid of the world so she stays at home, next there's a boy who seems so lost in his joy he's all alone, the camera's on them
life is the sieve through which my anarchy strain resolving itself into works, chaos is the score upon reality is written, the timeless, swirling gyroscopic
it's superficial progress, they call it liberation with opiates of silicon big brother schemes to rule the nation, we're one nation under god, we stand
we're widespread and well fed the earth's rotating fate is in our head, we're dominant and prominent and all our deities omnipotent, and immortality
so here we are again to experience the bitter, scalding end, we're the only ones who can perceive it, but others sing of beauty and the story that has
lives are just like ours? an unturned stone, an undiscovered door leading too, the gift of hope renewed, eternity for you, the masses of humanity have always had to suffer
so you waste another day getting older and gray in your head, and you're hearing lots of stories 'bout the happy times you have ahead, there are other
I've seen a lot of things in 5 years, I struggle just to hold back the tears, but every fuckin' where I go I see the pathos that I know, will spell the
hey, sit down and listen and they'll tell you when you're wrong, eradicate but vindicate as "progress" creeps along, puritan work ethic maintains its
Delirium of disorder Delirium of disorder Life is the sieve through which my anarchy strains Resolving itself into works Chaos is the score upon which
There was a boy who had too many toys And an ache inside of his bones He sought extrication through chemical vocation And now he answers to Jones It
