1992
The world is one big screwed up place
Pollution, violence, deficit, disease
Why are we putting up with it all?
Killings on the streets, rape, torture
No one is safe, yet people go on
Happy people, oblivious to problems
How do they do it? Don't they see?
This place we live in isn't gonna be around much more
And there's not a damn thing we can do about it
There are just too many problems to take care of
And I'm not at all optimistic about anything
I'm just waiting for one big explosion
Get it over with now- why wait?
Things are just getting worse
Does no one realise it but me?
The world is dying.
Finish what you're doing and then I'll kill you
Come on, come on- time is running out
There's not much left anymore
Why isn't anyone listening to me?
AAAAHH!
Hurry, come with me
I'll take you on a journey you'll never forget
To die or not to die, that is the question.
Why live- what the hell is the point?
Nothing good ever happens, and when it does
It certainly doesn't last very long.
The bad always comes back. Back to stay.
Life is filled with bad things.
When something good comes along-
The bad overpowers it.
So why live- unless you like bad things?
Murder, rape, AIDS, abuse, pollution.
Love fades fast, kindness doesn't last
What the hell is the point?
The atom is small
The eye can't see it, but it's there-
With others to be known.
Up, up, up and down
Wind circulates around
If time's of the essence, don't be slow
Superficial days are coming
Relate our society to nothing
The rate of change never changes, keep it going
Let it be known, the streets
Call out your fortune, too hard to conceal
The few people who do-
Never to be seen again
Why?
Deal out lives right the first time
Can't be helped
Life's ready to kill all who die before it
Level heads make it to 1st
To be a challenge, must be a rebel
What is a rebel?
Sit on your rump- you bump on the chair
Listen to the work or die
Slow down everywhere for it is time
Time to leave the bubble- go now or else...
Shoot the eskimo- mobey dick
Or Mobey Dick- the thing is a character
Sane is for the sane sand bags
Wicked is not always bad
Stay bad ork dab you
What?
Sings on your way to mass
Listen to your music up in the trees
Weird I get, sane you leave too
Go forth young man, to get your head blown off
Eat bread, you feeble footed fool
Shrinky dink bottle of ink
Deviled eggs are on the rampage
Gorky Park, motorcycle madness- carpe diem
What?
Click ME- I know you want to...
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