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YOU SHOULD NEVER TRUST THE PANTALOON
permanently occupied with your past
life is lonely and so am i
raise boys and girls the same way
art will survive, artists won’t
will nature make a man off me yet?
life has a hopeful undertone
our brains are sick but that’s okay
i want to do all the things your lungs do so well
thanks for the tragedy, i needed it for my art
i’m literally emo but let’s call it pop punk
raised to be stupid but taught to be nothing at all
we will find a destination that may only be seen with a naked mind
i sing of a greater love, let me know when you’ve had enough
life isn’t about finding yourself, it’s about creating yourself
i am not afraid to walk this world alone
joy bloody division that’s who
if it looks like i’m laughing, i’m really just asking to leave
i’m not like them i can’t pretend
i’m just the way the doctor made me
i can’t stand my own mind
a poet is a blind optimist
i accept lostness forever
when did you look at your skin and decided you were an impotent dirty old locomotive?
well, my gun fires seven shades of shit
i saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness
i don’t do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision
she tasted like imported sophistication and domestic cigarettes
love is a haunting melody that i have never mastered and fear i never will
great writers are indecent people, they live unfairly saving the best part for paper
well you can hide a lot about yourself, but honey what are you gonna do?
i was killing before killing was cool
another cog in a murder machine
we are all a bunch of animals that never paid attention in school
it was the roar of the crowd that gave me heartache to sing
these bright lights have always blinded me
ask no questions and you’ll get no lies
you’re always haunted by the idea that you’re wasting your life
but i come to love you, am i born to bleed?
i must admit i can’t explain any of these thoughts racing through my brain
who says we have cold hearts?
the most heroic word in all languages is revolution
born from some mother’s womb (just like any other room)
reach the dumb to fool the crowd
self induced manipulation
tv taught me how to feel now real life has no appeal
if all we are is just machines let’s become a miracle and break free from these chains
those who don’t know their history are doomed to repeat it
what would you rather be? the poet or the poem?
we are drowning in information but starved for knowledge
he made me understand why hurricanes are named after people
when you look death in the eye and death blinks first nothing seems impossible
he pretend he’s okay but you should see him late at night
nothing kills a man faster than his own head
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