what I'm asking for playing my game. Tell me what's this game, tell me so that I can understand, I can decide my rules, and hope to see born icons memoirs
There is no hole in which to hide There is no plane to catch No hope, tell them that's warm enough No rent to a room that's quiet A friend I've known
Watch the holy men their golden figures luxury of servants nightmare of outsiders deathly power in icons of torture inspiration for holy action false
FULL SPEED AHEAD FULL SPEED AHEAD BEAT OFF THE HEAD Of misguided humanism Obstructing nillicism Nivellating loserism Limp crypto-socialism And the test-tubes of urine are the icons
values Determined and assimilated Appreciated for their names Created by and for the system Emperor in their realms Illusionists alienated Icons, with
the goat's whisper in wires is heard by the neglected Hitler's snakes are gathering in the flat rate society that global networks provide. from ashes
i think it's starting again the same thing that happens when i'm sure what i'm thinking about is right but i don't know anything the inhibitions decline
I've tasted what it's like. I don't dig it. I could heal the lesser bites, so they won't scar, but why bother. Like to feel the bumps and bruises, so
Is today fact or fiction? You've told me the plot and expect me to still play the role. You talk round in circles, despite the shape and reputation that
Am I frightened of this town? Just a little. I'm a frightened of all the things that it makes me do. I've been invited to a part with demons and dickheads
Why bother? I feel you coming from a million miles away. You're putting on your spin. Like you're entitled to whatever I create. I'll step aside. You
Feral children of the night. You're hungry. I get it. It's all been fashioned, so get in line; or draw one. It don't matter. You got another itch to
I'm the escapist, scrutinized to hell and I'm trapped under water. The Caustics; they embrace me. I'm bleeding through my wrists as you stare in fascination
I'm on a quest for normalcy, balance, respect and mystery. Rechargeable with cells and chips and such. Flooded with information. Refresh rate the face
It happens to me from time to time. I realize I've waited too long. I pretend to turn the blind eye. Before I know it. I've lost sight of it all, even
When a swing is not enough and the surface just won't break. The measures that I've taken, added up, are all working against me. Waiting for the Diphenhydramine
I went back the other day. Stayed a little longer cause I liked it. times I thought of misery, turns out weren't so bad. Magenta is the last to fade.
