Freak Mask Catapult

Dizzy dizzy spinning

I see the little woman

She's sitting on a mirror

And she's spinning

Dizzy dizzy burning

I see the little woman

She's sitting all alone

And she's burning

Freak mask catapult

Throwing monsters in our faces

Freak mask catapult

Making shadows all over this place

Lazy lazy rotting

I see the little woman

She's sitting on the world

And her face is rotting

Lazy lazy dying

I see the little woman

She's standing all alone

I want to stop her dying

Freak mask catapult

Flinging shit up to the stars

Freak mask catapult

Trying to tell us who we are

Eggshells

Twelve, that's the number wound around my neck. All thin sheen and golden core, yet the innermost parts seem more fragile than that silver cloak draped across her shoulders. Morpheus, why do you do this to me? The river was once clear and cold, sustaining all the verdant fields as far as the eye could see. Now it blackened and thick, a red film like a scab clinging to the surface, as the trees die and the flowers wilt.

That wall I built with my two smooth skinned hands stands up on the hill, slowly falling apart. The sharp edges worn smooth by rain and wind. Little gaps between the stones, like cavities in a smile, let the wind rush through howling like some kind of demonic flute. That wall, it offers no shelter, no compassion, no escape. It's not like her.

So when you gripped me tight, that's when I felt it deep inside, growing inside me, a rush of something warm and heavy. But as that wall crumbles so does my resolve. The little holes let in the sunlight and I blink against it. You were warm like the light, but I never was blinded by you. Then the rain came, hard and driving, piercing my flesh like little needles. You pierced me like the rain, but you never purified me like the cold water does. Resurrection is insurrection against the universe. The order of the world is upended when you try to bring back the dead. The little bodies where a soul sat, what's the purpose? The skin rots, and the soul is forgotten, who can say it was ever there? Eyes shine with an inner light because we imagine they do. They're little pebbles on a creek bed, reflecting the light of a living thing.

If they eyes are the window to the soul, what is the mouth? If the heart is the throne of love, what are the bowels? With those eyes you slash the breath from me. Beauty, it's that lie we tell ourselves as we scramble from the impartial jaws of the abyss. But when I see your eyes reflect the light, I want to believe.

All these people with their gods and idols

Their weak reasons and their big red devils
The ghosts of their fathers rattling in their skulls

Clinging so tight to that ray of hope they invent

One day those churches will fragment

The shards in their eyes as they lament

All the light and hope crumbled like cement

And I think on that day I'll want to laugh

Held so high that gleaming golden calf

The newborn child cut up divided in half

Paying the priests to plead on their behalf

No more the devout now the stumbling mob

The hands held tight on the doorknob

The face turned away from the macabre

The feet fleeing the stress of their job

The emptiness coming fast and hard

The children sleep softly in the graveyard

As the dogs and rats stand silently on guard

The wedding dresses covering the skin scarred

No hand holds, no eyes meet, all is dust now

No gods nor goddesses...

No gods nor goddesses

In a trinity or sevenfold

No ballads nor dirges

In harmony or tempo bold

Will ever rouse my spirit

Nor spark my soul

The way your smiles do

Affe

Ich blute Wahnsinn.

Ich bin der Wahnsinn.

Ich bin der Wahnsinn, dass euch Angst!

Ich bin Vernunft in einer verrückten Land.

Und sie sagen:

Tanz Affe, tanz Affe, tanz.

Tanzen wild, tanzen wild, tanz.

Tanzen geil, tanzen geil, tanz,

Tanz Affe, tanz Affe, tanz.

Und sie sagen:

Wir werden eins sein

Wir werden glucklich sein

Wir werden eins sein

Wir werden zusammen sein

Und sie sagen:

Tanzen für uns, Affen

Tanzen für uns, Affen

Tanzen für uns, Affen

schönen Affe.

Und sie sagen:

Du bist so amüsant, Affechen

Ich bin ihr kleiner Affe

Und ich werde zu tänze

Und ich werde zu tänze

Ich tanze!

Smoke

I built a house out of smoke and haze

I showed her my love, and she said it was a phase

I built an empire on ego and empty promises

I swallowed her eyes so she'd stay ageless

Mechanized and still unsure

I cut my way through the field of bodies

Sterilized and still impure

I dig deeper until the gore is up to my knees

I built a hovel out of love and peace

I showed her my hate and she knew it'd decrease

I built a wasteland out of kindness and freedom

I turned her breast into my stiffened battle-drum

Tall

If I was tall enough so that I could touch the sky

Then I wouldn't have to see you

If I was tall enough to stand ankle-deep in the ocean

Then I wouldn't have to hear you

If I was big enough to hold the earth in my palm

Then I wouldn't care what you saw when you looked at me

If I was big enough to cross the galaxy in a half-step

Then I wouldn't care what you say about me

But I am not that tall

And I am not that big

I am just so small.

Slip

I was the bullet and the gun
I am the man who can't confess

I was the boy crying on the run
I am the lonely girl in the pink dress

I see those eyes, those dark bleak starry things

They're catching and dragging me down down

You see my skin, this slick scaly worn out thing
I see these eyes in a mirror, the hollow dead things

I see you light up when you laugh, and my light goes out

You're feeling around my chest, the skin bulging up and sliding

You see my hair, it's blowing around in the wind, it fills you with doubt

I see this light, it drains slowly, staining the floor, now comes the drought

New Anthem (R.R.)

They must be made to understand that,

We will never reevaluate our views based on new evidence.

We will never share our warmth.

We will never loosen our grip on the grave.

Choking the infant silent to death,
Our skin raw with rape,

Our hands heavy with blood,

Our tongues loose with ignorance.

And when we smile it's red, white, and blue.

The dark ones in the shadows lurking,

While we eat and grow slow.

The dark ones in the shadows laughing,

While we stumble and rise high.
They must be made to understand that,

We will never compromise our sense of vengeance.

We will never give up our chains.

We will never abandon our belief in violence.

Pressing the girl down to the dust,

Our flesh slick with tears,

Our fist firm with indignation,

Our mouths open with hate.

And when we smile it's red, white, and blue.

The dark ones in the shadows waiting,

While we waste and slip into sleep.

The dark ones in the shadows watching,

While we huddle and mummer prayers.

Little Things

God said: Forever fire shall be twofold, comfort and pain

The devil spat: Forever shadows shall conceal and restrain

Silver glass begins to fall, drop by drop

That red ruby field diminishing bottom and top

She becomes little things:

Length of hair

Size of waist

Firmness of breasts

Brightness of eyes

She becomes nothingness

God said: Nevermore flesh shall remain, dark and rotting

The devil spat: Nevermore eyes shall reveal what they were seeking

Rotten wood falls away, age after age
That old town now becomes a rusted cage

She becomes little things:
Smoothness of skin

Wideness of smile

Whiteness of teeth

Looseness of heart

She becomes nothingness

Whip Guy

This one time I was in a novelty store,

I bought a whip for fifteen dollars,

Now,

I whip stuff!

Yeah, I whip stuff!

On the weekends I got to the park and,

Whip stuff!

I whip stuff!

Yeah, I whip stuff!

I whip stuff like trees, squirrels, and rocks,

Yeah I whip rocks.

I'm not Indiana Jones or a lion tamer,

I'm just a guy with a whip,

My name's Darryl,

I'm from accounting,

But on the weekends,

I'm whip guy!

Yeah, I whip stuff!

That's what I do with my spare time,

'Cause I'm divorced and Janice won't let me see my kids!

I whip stuff!

Yeah, I whip stuff!

I'm not Indiana Jones or a lion tamer,

I'm just a guy with a whip,

My name's Darryl,

I'm from accounting,

But on the weekends,

I'm whip guy!

Last week I went to her house,

And I whipped her boyfriend's hummer,

Yeah, I whipped it!

But it's a hummer,

So it really didn't damage it.

So I pulled out my knife and sliced his tires,

And scratched his paint,

And they called the cops,

And I whipped the cops!

I'm not Indiana Jones or a lion tamer,

I'm just a guy with a whip,

My name's Darryl,

I'm from accounting,

But on the weekends,

I'm whip guy!

I like whipping stuff,

In retrospect,

I should not have whipped the cops,

I got a five hundred dollar fine,

For whipping the cops,

I had to sell my whip.

Supervillian Song

Nobody like the monsters,

Nobody digs on the villain,

Nobody likes the creepsters.

Now I tried, tried so hard,

Tried so hard to get the girl,

Tried so hard to rule the world.

Tried so hard to win the end,

Tried so hard to find a friend.

Ya think I'm lame?

Ya think I need pity?

I got rocket boots,

A jet-black cape,

I got five gold platted battle-suits!

I robbed a bank with my telepathy,

Hey fool, I don't need your sympathy!

Ya think I'm lame?

Ya think I'm lame?

My nemesis wear his underwear on the outside,

I got self-respect, that's why I don't do the same!

Nobody like the monsters,

Nobody digs on the villain,

Nobody likes the creepsters.

Ya think I'm lame?

Ya think I'm lame?

Screw you fool!

I'll throw ya 'gainst the wall with my magnetic powers,

Hop in my jet,

Be back in my lair in a couple hours.

Ya think I'm lame?

Ya think I'm lame?

Hey fool, I'm from an alien planet,

Ya can't even begin to pronounce my name!

Ya think I'm lame?

Ya think I'm lame?

Nobody like the monsters,

Nobody digs on the villain,

Nobody likes the creepsters.

Now I tried, tried so hard,

Tried so hard to get the girl,

Tried so hard to rule the world.

Tried so hard to win the end,

Tried so hard to find a friend.

I don't need you!

I'm a supervillain,

I'm super,

Super-duper!

I don't need you!

I'm a supervillain,

I'm super,

Super-duper!

Fred the Aardark

There's an aardvark under my bed;

His name it's Fred, 

His favorite color it's red.

I once tried to make him dead,

By beating him with a pipe of lead.

 He asked where I would get such an idea,

I said it were my best friend Jed.

Once I tried to make him dead,

By suffocating him with a slice of bread.

He asked where I would get such an idea,

I said it were my uncle Ned.

Once I tired to make him dead,

By locking him in the shed,

He cried aloud,

"Man, you're loony in the head!!"

Oh Fred, where'd you come from?

Oh Fred, where ya gon'?

Oh Fred, why do I hate ya so?

Oh, Fred, did ya just eat my toe?

There's an aardvark in my closet,

He's name it's Fred,

His smell it' putrid,

His oder it's rancid.

Once I tired to make him dead,

By spilling lye on his head,

He asked why I would get such an idea,

I said were my father Ted.

Once I tired to make him dead,

By hitting his with a shoe,

Whatta expect me to do?

He replied by shouting,

"What's wrong with you?!"

Oh Fred, where'd you come from?

Oh Fred, where ya gon'?

Oh Fred, why do I hate ya so?

Oh, Fred, did ya just eat my toe?

Yes there's is an aardvark under my bed, named Fred!

Zimmer

I want to build you a little room

A place you can stay, when no one else wants you

I want to build you a sanctuary

Somewhere you can sleep in peace as the thunder crashes

A haven where time and pain cease

Six by six by six feet, a little womb

A haven where all is sublime peace

Six by six by six feet, a warm tomb

I want to build you a little room

A place where I can hold you tight and dry your tears

I want to build you a sanctuary

Somewhere you can always find me when your hearts gets heavy

A haven where black and white fade

Six by six by six feet, a little womb

A haven where you never need to be afraid

Six by six by six feet, a warm tomb

I am going to build you a little room

With hammer and nail and little kisses on you forehead

I am going to build you a sanctuary

Plan it out with dreams and slowly dripping drops of blood

A haven that dust and age cannot touch

Six by six by six feet, a little womb

A haven that safe from darkness' clutch

Six by six by six feet, a warm tomb

I am going to build you a little room

With steel and stone and sealed off from the evil world

I am going to build you a sancturay

Plan it out with quick smiles and black crayons

A haven that cold and wet cannot find

Six by six by six feet, a little womb

A haven that exists only in peace of mind

Six by six by six feet, a warm tomb

To The Witch OR For the Blue Eyed Phantom

When my voice cannot reach you

And neither sympathy, nor vengeance nor love

Will move you

I cannot give you hope

Nor can I fix all the things you broke

Fragile were the shapes we crafted

Yet as they fell from us; imprecise

We knew that they were wrought of light

Fragments of long lost paradise

When a fetus festers in your belly

And neither loneliness, nor abandonment nor lies

Will make you angry

I cannot give you hope

Nor I can fix all the things you broke

Under our skin roamed beasts and noise

Yet as they devoured one another; remorseless

I knew they wouldn't mar the silk of your skin
Your canvas, your frame remains ever blameless

When my eyes no longer pierce you

And neither clarity, nor numbness nor beauty

Will give dreams to you

I cannot give you hope

Nor can I can fix all the things you broke

Ceaseless are my thoughts of the vapor

Yet as it curls around my toes; indistinguishable

I know it won't obscure your eyes or the mouth that spits

It pools the lifeblood from me into a fist made dull

When my touch no longer warms you

And neither romance, nor tragedy nor laughter

Will come from you

I cannot give you hope

Nor can I can fix all the thing you broke

Kinetic are the words that spread between us

Yet as they form from chains to walls; impenetrable

We know that we will never see one another again

So you wrote my name inside the pages of your bible

When my fingers no longer grip you

And neither pain, nor sparks nor glass

Will draw blood from you

I cannot give you hope

Nor can I fix all the things you broke

Meaningless are the symbols etched in your skin

Yet as the twist and connect; indecipherable

You know they form names I will never know

So you trickle saliva over me bearing the unbearable

When my thoughts cannot find you

And neither glory, nor lust nor friendship

Will excite you

I cannot give you hope

Nor can I fix all the things you broke

Immaculate are the phantoms that haunt me

Yet as they dance and slide into the night; unfathomable

I know they twist the moonlight just to make me laugh

Everyone wants to be loved, even these fallen angels

When my tongue cannot taste you

And neither gore, nor salt water nor tears

Will scrub you clean

I cannot give you hope

Nor can I fix all the things you broke

Revolutionary are these scabs covering me

Yet as they blister and ooze seeping filth; unquenchable

You know that this disease too will die with me

And your breast forever shall be adorned with my skull

When my feet cannot run to you

And neither fatigue, nor fright nor fury

Will make you pant

I cannot give you hope

Nor can I fix all the things you broke

Iridescent are the eyes set into your skull

Yet as they twinkle and burn; unconquerable

I know you will lend me a hand when the night grows long

And for all this my heart and scalp remain bestial

When my arms no longer hold you

And neither my lips, nor my words nor my hands

Will comfort you

I cannot give you hope

Nor can I fix all the things you broke

Flask

I am the god of broken promises and regrettable deeds, yet for all these pustules and scars on my skin the stars still shine down on me with pale and iridescent light. Those lights, those little gaps in the Void, they chill me in a somber and comforting way, a coolness and clarity of thought. I walked all the way down the road, potholes and all, to see the Tree where my demon has his bed made of skin and bone fragments, but it was guarded by a breed of dragon I've never seen before. The breath of that dragon fell out of a maw reddened and moist with the blood of young girls and men with kind hearts, and then as it filled my nose I knew the truth, so shocking and relentless; that bastard had moved, and left a forwarding address. With haste, I ran, stumbled, loped, sped for the oak tree behind my house, the one with the skeletal remains hanging from its branches. I will blow blue smoke in his face while I piss on his corpse, the god of revenge and petty rememberings reborn.

There is a pile of ash not far from that tree, and I shudder to think of it, a pile of loveless letters written with care, syllables constructed to deceive and hide, words meant to shroud, cloud, and confuse. Now the boldness comes, sudden with little vanguards of lightning and numbness, willing me forward, down, down, the length that Jackson spans, that little field of pavement, all the way to the end. So there I stand staring, hoping, wishing, waiting for the pain to end. But it comes in such all encompassing waves it is almost too much to bear. I wait for a half a second contemplating an awful choice, I turn again, doubling back, like a beast who knows his realm is small, I crouch and let my effluence drain into the earth, no one other animal will challenge my domain. What would the bright eyes say if they knew the dreams that haunt my waking world, those tiny thoughts that fill me with such guilt, even when no real crime has been committed? I'll never know, I turned away, and threw my head back and swallowed down the contents of a flask filled with urine, bile, and tears.

Intensity flowers from a seed that was never meant to planted, a little accident, an unhappy reminder that this isn't the way it was meant to be, no picket fence or curving hips for me, no more the boy with combed hair always in his Sunday best. A twisting little road, at the end a house with no number, welcome home Morpheus, I've missed you and your seedlings of woe. Like icy hands, or cracked lips, I remain in a quiet state of disrepair, no vibrant with entropy, just middling, a glass half empty.

The mind creates its own cosmos, and I'm left drifting aimlessly at sea, wayward and forsaken. With only the dancing ghost lights to taunt and tempt me, and taint the night with luminence that chips and drags the solid spirals down, dragging them deep under the surface of the unhappy waves. All things become one. And one thing become everything.

I never expected to see her again, at least not in the same light as before, not serene and bright, not soft or warm. No, now she's distant, far off like a star or a half forgotten dream, a thing for lonely nights and grey afternoons. A mind shouldn't be a cage, a body shouldn't become a prison, but the longer I lay here the tighter the chains become, digging into my flesh, and searing the marrow to the muscle. It's no surprise that nothing makes sense anymore, I've been lost in the fog before, and the threat of sorrow seems too real to bear. So a little trickle of courage down my throat causing me to reconsider and infer that something is wrong or off balance. And even though it feels warm and fine, there's something else, a swirl of apathy, or a tremor of uncertainty. A shadow, a shape of unwillingness that stalks and pries into the scabs of my heart, seeping liquid fire and sopping up the blood with little handfuls of dust down in my veins. 

It was in candlelight, that I saw you for the first time, saw you for who you really are. In that flickering light I saw the truth in you, no flaws, full of perfection, there was only me and you. Some spoonfuls of sugar, some stuttering words, so eyes sizzle, or tear up, who can tell the difference these days? It's all taken with hushed glances and spittle dripping from clenched teeth, love is a weapon and honesty a currency.

I stood in my kitchen, holding half a brick from the foundations of an old forsaken house. The voice that spoke from the stone was frantic and tinged with passive-aggression, yet it claimed to only speak of for my benefit and only in concern for the flesh and blood that stretched so far between us. I threw the brick through the church's window, and never looked back. In this moment I am fulfilled; made empty.