They watch the slow ritual
Killing what you have inside
They see a thing like hope
And arrange a time to arrange a price.

The strings I can't cut have been tied tight shut
And they're pulled to make my mouth move against truth
The air's turning thick with the lies, and for what?
A death after living for everyone but you.

These dreams won't fit in your cage.

These dreams won't fit in your cage.

And I've not lost, so long as these words are here on this page.

You Don't Have To Be Dead To Be A Ghost

Waves
Breaking like hearts
Crashing like cars
Wash me away.

Chalk out an outline
Wait for the body

The greatest days we will ever see have gone.

Some Bridges Never Burn

I'll learn the language of ghosts.
To tell the dead not to stand at my side.
These days are taking too long to fade.
They just won't pass from colours to grey.

And at this time when we just need hope,
Where is the one thing that we need the most?
If there's one thing that we know
It's that there is just no place like home.

Dig your heels in the ground like graves.
Grit your teeth.
Carry round that weight.

Build a bridge just to cast it in flames.
Some things never burn like some torches always blaze.

Can we re-ignite?
These embers in me just won't die
Put me out
Or burn me down
Just decide tonight.
I need you to do this.

With your voice you could make a home.
Make a choice now I just need to know.

The rest cut away now I'm just skin and bones and I regret the fact that I have chosen this road.

I can't carry this load.

I have not grown up, I have only grown old.

The mouth of the river is overflowing
I guess it's clearing it's throat.
You've cut down all the trees in town,
But you don't know how to build a boat.

So it looks like the flood will make us all drown.
But let's just see how well we all float.
The witch hunters were not playing around,
So now we're all tangled up in rope.

The cat is out the bag
But the bag is in the river
And sinking down we have just found
The (death) bed.

Even Mushroom Clouds Have A Silver Lining.

I want to see this city in flames.
I want to cast a fucking plague.
Let it rain.
Oh, let it rain.

And clean these shitty streets
Restart this heart so it beats
For something
That's not just in vain.

We're all dead, we just don't know it yet.
So go out and take everything you can get.
I can't wait for the south to sink,
It seems the price of hope is disappointment.

There is no ambition here.
When will what we've done become something real?
You all fail me,
Because every time's the same.

This web we tried to weave,
Didn't catch a fucking thing.
So now let's tear it apart
And start again.

If you're thinking what I'm thinking
Then you'll see the south is sinking.
The city's dying, let's pull the plug and run.
Because these roads don't feel like they hold homes,
They just host the weights that will make us drown,
But we're too jaded now to ever die young.

This is dead, poisoned by regrets.
So let's look to see what we can kill next.
I can't wait for the south to sink,
It seems the price of hope is disappointment.

The darkest hour chimes and I have been waiting so long
To exercise my right to enjoy that what I'm told is wrong.
For now the time has come and so yes I will slake my thirst
For carnage, for trauma, to maul, rape, maim and worse.


Light from your bedroom window, like a beacon beckoning.
Fight me if you must, just know that I will not give in.
Your wrists and ankles pinned in the name of sheer atrocity
A microcosmic example of this sick society.



Do not fight, do not resist me, I will enter all your homes.
Such barbaric savagery, should surely remain unknown.
Yet here I am, the harbinger, the deliverer of such filth.
The bringer of pure violation, the ironic emblem of this bilge.


The downfall of all you hold dear and simply nothing less.
Until you weep and bleed and wail my crusade will not rest.
My mission paradoxically pure, so simple is my cause
To remove all your security, to forever alter your thoughts.
Fuck.


And so as blood red morning breaks, my work here is completed
All your infantile faith in the human race stands utterly depleted.
You ask, how could this happen to a little one, in an innocent existance?
My answer is not my own, for I channel a world so fucking twisted.

The moves I make are consequences of strings pulled by our culture.
The lives I take are offerings to this warped icon sculpture.
If contemporary life has lead to the skin deep being hailed, extemporised
Does it not follow in this order that the beautiful ones are sacrificed?

Can you not see that this horror is but your own creation?
A promise I fulfil, but made to you by your own mother nation?
Feed the best ones to our deity, we must please the gods night after night.
If must breed the strong to cut them down, then forever I shall bear the scythe.

a bit of a weird, fucked up, moralistic stream of consciousness, about celebrity/western culture, superficiality, society in general, and american psycho.