The Pale Criminal.
| .:| sub judice |:. | Apr 27, 12 @ 11:24pm |
| ..:| sub judice |:..
You lost all of your self confidence and we really don't know how. Did you know you were really showing some promise? Well I guess we should have told you that before now. It's my mistake, I trusted you! Cold and bare in the glare of the fire of the day, in front of god and everything I thought you believed in. We gave up on our innocence, each of us a liar somehow. But you knew we had no secrets between us, we always stuck together until now. It's our mistake, we trusted you! Cold and bare in the glare of the fire of the day, in front of god and everything we thought you believed in. This world gave up on all of us, but together we meant something, somehow. Don't you remember how we all made a promise and always stuck together until now? It's my mistake, I trusted you! Cold and bare in the glare of the fire of the day, in front of god and everything I thought you believed in. Sub judice, the death of me is the death of two. And before the night is through you'll deny me and begin the death of you. |
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| One Million Eyes | Jun 8, 07 @ 3:58am |
| Stumbling over your own feet as if you
were anxious to out maneuver every uninvited glance in your direction It wasn't that a million eyes were watching or even fifty or twenty three. You couldn't count them but you could count on them. As certain as the sun would rise you had the attention of every eye and every sneer and every whisper in every careful ear. Out of pity, you made excuses for them. They had traded liberty for familiar routines and curiosity for sound sleep. In the dead hours you would imagine how they despise what they admire, wishing the morning would bring something more than glassy eyes and the familiar hum of civilization. Stumbling over your own feet as you follow the broken earth away from one here to the next there Whether it's fifty times or twenty three you're always noticed but never seen as you walk on by, walk on by It wasn't that a million eyes were watching those fifty times or twenty three as you walked on by, walked on by |
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| Cheney: Now Killing People Directly | Feb 17, 06 @ 9:49am |
| For over two years now the U.S. Bush administration has been sending our young countrymen off to the persian gulf, where to date over 2,000 of them have died.
Ever the zealous and productive Vice President, Dick Cheney must have found these numbers quite unsatisfactory as it seems he's now in the business of killing people directly. Always a man for equality, Cheney isn't just going to send perfect strangers off to die, he's going to start doing the same for his close friends. While on a "quail hunt" with Harry Whittington, Cheney took aim at his elderly friend and peppered him with bird shot. How shocked... er... relieved must Dick have been when he found out that old Harry actually lived through it? Oh, sure, the bird shot had lodged into his arteries and was now giving him these strange sort of lead induced heart attacks, as the doctors tried to explain it... but other than that, he was just peachy! Cheney took some criticism because he waited a day to make a statement about the incident. Later, he said it was because he wanted to get the facts straight before coming forward with his story. Poor Cheney must have lost some heart over this himself, I recon. I mean, before this, he'd never have let something as insignificant as the facts get in his way, would he? One of Cheney's key points in the 2004 election was that we needed to keep his party in office to protect us from the terrorists. And you gotta hand it to him, he's on top of his game! A nice, quiet, senior citizen like Harry would be the last guy any of us would have suspected. I, for one, will be resting just a little bit easier at night knowing that Dead-eye Dick is on the case! I'm not sure why the Democrats made such a big deal about this, anyway. It's all just a matter of formality. As soon as the CIA uncovers yet another Bin Laden videotape--only with Harry Whittington on it too--he'll be declared a terrorist and then that silly little "quail hunt" will be perfectly legal under the Patriot Act. Not only that, I'm sure Dick knows that he will then be free to torture Harry as well, hopefully forcing his long time friend (and Al Qaeda mole) to roll over and cough up some details on where Binney is hiding now. Or at least expose the next big money laundering scandal. The only thing Dick has really left us hanging on, though, is this: Did he bag that quail or not?? --- Tired feet, still wicked feet, onward they will march. |
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| The Simple Life | Apr 12, 05 @ 3:19am |
| I often feel as if something's got to give.
It's as if things keep getting blacker and blacker and god has his finger on the irony knob. He keeps turning it up louder and louder and yet no one notices: Religious extremists hijack 160 tons of fuel and steel and plow it into a major hub of commerce, an icon of prosperity belonging to the richest nation on the planet and we're all caught by suprise. A color coded warning system is developed to pacify a jilted nation. The alleged mastermind is never caught. The public's attention is diverted by a manufactured conflict with a third world country to the benefit of greedy war and oil industries. Our economy continues to stagnate, an over worked middle class continue to play the victim of a robbery to the wealthiest 1% of the population. Our votes for an American Idol are tabulated more accurately and more urgently than those for an American President. In our schools, more of our young continue to bring weapons to facilitate the mass slaughtering of one another. Metal detectors and transparent back packs help to keep this under control. We remain mesmerised by the Simple Life of a wealthy young slut on prime time television, in HDTV where available. Is the irony loud enough yet? Laws are passed which deprive us of basic freedoms and privacy in order to protect us from terrorists. These laws are known as the "Patriot Act". Who are the terrorists, anyway? Let's make another reality TV show to find out. The ratings would kick ass. Super-size me, yes, I'd like fries with that. Billions of dollars are diverted from domestic programs in order to increase the size and strength of the world's largest and strongest military. We are unable to blink as more Survivors are voted off the island. We lay claim to the world's highest incarceration rate. Our budget for justice is the highest while our crime problem remains the worst in the world. Please text me your thoughts, I'd like to try out my new ring tone. Seacrest, out! |
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| you make this real | Feb 28, 05 @ 12:34am |
| from the mouths of babes
come the skewed world views their cries of protest come from the deep unrest inside of them and from the souls of cowboys with their well worn brims and sun leathered skin come the quiet prarie songs not from the inside but from a lifetime of contemplation; in fields both soft and thorny through days both fair and stormy you make this real for me. when i feel lost and hopeless, i realize it. every one of you make this real for me. it is the people we have in our lives that make all our lives worth living for we were all once together and the same and one day we will be there again in fields both soft and thorny through days both fair and stormy you make this real for me. you are the babe, you are the cowboy you are all me and we are all the same in fields both soft and thorny through days both fair and stormy our restless cries and prarie songs all sound very much the same in the end. |
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| March of the Wicked | Dec 28, 04 @ 2:33pm |
| Those men, though wicked
will still this way come Their drummer, tho tired will still drum his drum Tired feet, still wicked feet onward they will march Tired feet, still wicked feet heel then arch, heel then arch! |
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| An odd poem. | Dec 28, 04 @ 2:31pm |
| There was a young woman
who lived as a screw she hired a driver who knew just what to do the lad gave it a try-good and put her in some ply-wood and now she's nothing to do. |
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