These hours seem like years...
I've been staring at this wall, wondering when it's going to take all of our lives.
I'm just glad we have jokes.

I think way too much back here.
My eyes are slowly closing; boredom is causing this loss of interest.
When will I awake? Asleep...
This party of four includes three grown adults and myself.
The first adult is very shy and wise enough to keep the second one from conversation.
(They're on a mission).
Gender is not recognized.
The third adult is a male and talks too much.
The stench of shit is in the air...
The room storms with laughter... fours turns into a hundred and the noise is unbearable.
"It's time, you are in hell, this place will kill itself soon!"
I cry, and the hands surround me.
Born into a hell...
I never wanted to wake to this.
I have experienced nothing, yet I feel I'm the only one who has not done harm.

If only I could understand how to change things...
I can't fucking think. The noise is unbearable.
The noise stops.

Clowns now appear.

They are all carrying knives and cups of gasoline.
"Tonight is our death." The clowns then begin to slash each other...
The skies open up, the flames pour in...
The world watched in awe.
Mesmerized.

The populations soon follow the clown's lead.
Death is in the air.
The three adults once again start talking...
They ask questions of faith and love.
"We shall live past these days, rid of all we've done."
I see what they mean now... but the wretched smell has overcome...
I am gone...
The baby born with the end of the world...
Awake...
The five of us haven't spoken in hours.
Sitting alone to our own thoughts.
Only we will know what strange things boredom has created.

This moment is set.
Let's make magic.
You're the #1 girl; it's time to stay at the top.
This is the song of the year.
We just recorded your orgasm.
The music isn't shit anymore; your sexual vibe carries across the land.

Daydream sex, broken marriage fuck.
You cause this shit.

Everyone has been waiting for this moment; for this song.
This song of the year: "sexy, smooth, yet sophisticated."
The music isn't shit.
It's all about image, image, image.
Fuck your song, you're looking good.
We just recorded your orgasm, and the money is rolling in.

Alone, afraid, smile glued bright.
Feeling so dirty, sexed up by human eyes.
An "artist" washed over, pulled under.
The moment is set, let's make magic.
You're the #2 girl; it's time to kill for the top.
Let's show this song of the year.
We videotaped your orgasm.
The music was never shit, we lied, we lied, as you lay...
Drained, tired and robbed of your self-expression...
You're a toy, a toy for lust and greed.
Insecure depression, the mirrors are laughing at us.
Trying to be sexy queen, trying to be darling.

You've pounded in her little head like daddy wants to pound in you.
Daydream sex, broken marriage fuck.
You cause this shit.

Makeup, bras and lingerie no need for this algebra.
Family dinners silent, speaking only to ourselves...
This orgasm on the screen has molded our American dream.

[Day one]
Asleep mid-sentence- the words fell apart.
No one is listening anyway.
This day will soon turn black and my "wants and needs" will spill on my burning ashes.
I learned to be selfish today...
I learned to be alive.
These things I care for are for my personal gain and my person happiness only.

Why should I sit in your chairs and satisfy your standards.
I've done it all before and I've confused myself a thousand times.
The tragic day that I call morality just doesn't do it for me anymore.

No more choices, just standing in the cold.
The day will turn black and I will have either lived or died.
Asleep mid-sentence- my words fall to the ground.
Swept into this dreamland.
Economic satisfaction, never succeed.
But happiness has its place.
Justice will not lie in your corner.
New day towards death, only compassion for my own needs make my need necessary.

[Day two]
Throw myself in the corner; I have nothing to complain about here.
A tragic day seems too peaceful to most, spoiled ambitious turned my heart to black.

I'm figuring out this realization process- the process to never look upon bitter ground.
Living dreams, loving dreams, awakening to what I've always dreamt of.
The familiar sound of the lovely laugh from the love of my life will keep the notes coming.

From the reciting of the show,
From the plip and the shevanel,
From the grind that annoys, and the sarcasm, they all hate...
Forever I worship.
I'll kill, love, and hate for all of you.

Thank you for the best part of my life.

Sleep insane
Dream (on) the inside, dream (on) my own.
Once escaped... star filled road.

My head will not rest on this pillow
As it's gripped in my arms tonight
Like reality, too tight
If a dream could last forever
I would hold you here
Time need not freeze, I need not fear
This world inside
Is a world I have longed to find

And I will not be afraid to love
I won't be afraid to lose
What I once deprived myself of

My tear drops have salt-stained this pillow
As its loosened from my weakened clutch
Like the sun's light: too much
But there's a hope today
That I'll find a way
To make my dream reality

Sometimes I run and sometimes I crawl
Sometimes I fly and sometimes I fall
But this dream of mine won't change at all

(You can't follow me)

I thought it was strange when all this shot into my mind driving.
It's weird how this enclosed space makes me think so clearly... so free!

I wish all hours were so relaxing.
Thinking of the next noise... making up the next noise.
Scream loud, loud, loud, loud.
Static intoxication, sing this lovely violin song.

Beat this bottle on a wall.
Scream, scream, scream.
The baby cries.
Record the noise.

It all makes sense... we're capable of beauty.
Through sounds which make one cringe.
The dogs only hear us now.

For the first time tears came to my eyes while I was listening.
Noise brings so many things... make my tingling skin freeze.
Turn me on, make me laugh, shoot the can, shut the door, pour your glass,
Rape scene scream, car crash bash, black cat splat.

A silent death, a silent scream...
You can't follow me, you sing along to nothing.

King Kong illusion... destruction!
Crumble this place of existence.

Let's bow down to the king of the masculine, the macho redneck lord.
Killing innocent for the revenge of the innocent...
Turning this country into shit.
Just another rich white game.
Bomb the world...
Ice for my cramped hands.

This controller is designed poorly and the blood keeps staining my suit.
The plasma screen shows me stutter but technology will prove everyone wrong.
Ego trip headfuck.
I've been hired for destruction.
The King Kong of the century has been molded by me.

Leading them blindly into brainwashed blood lands.
My world expands with your destruction.
I have to prove my strength.
Peer pressure of a nation, selfish action spreads.

Kidding myself.
Do I really care or worry about any of this?
My conscious controls me, but deep down I don't think any of this makes me lose sleep.
Once again I prove my confusion.
Mordecai flies once again.
Will he ever truly stay gone?

Decrease the light, increase the smiles... a familiar heat is swarming the air.
Soothing movements that help the evening come to a halt.
Lifetime achievement...
The looks on their faces make it worthwhile.
The swaying
Of the ocean, to the swaying of your hips...
Shivering as your lover's caress touches your lips.

Perfect world and perfect lives, we have the soundtrack for their futures.
The seawater smell in the cold outside world seems to be enchanting the room.
The chatter of riches keeping the beat, as the sea seems to freeze.
The brisk air seems to make our hearts colder.
The dimming smiles seem to have halted with a silent scream.
We must play on.

The perfect life torn apart in a matter of seconds...
I hear their screams and cries...
I know now that I'm the only one who possesses true happiness.
We must play on.
The perfect life torn apart in a matter of seconds...
I hear their screams and cries...
I know now that I'm the only one who possesses true happiness.
We must play on.
Keep the beat, we tap our feet...

Screams add a new feel to what we've perfected so dear.
We'll play to our deaths for we possess true happiness.
We are finally free.
Dying with our one passion, music: the greatest wealth of them all.
We must play on.

Whip the child, stretch that child... drag them through your dreams of lust...
Raise the skirt... stroke the thigh... leech!
This blood will never clot.
It pours down the chin of every child, every life touched by your sick instinct.

Fucking whore, fucking whore of disgust.

Castrate the fuck.
Beat the fucker to death.
Your life paid by the sweat of your disgusting sex.
Their innocent tears drenched every inch of life that went into those toys and beautiful minds.