| 11th and 12th April 2002 Home Your home is where you wish to be Warm and comfortable you see Your home is where family is Not some cheesy Hollywood biz Your home is your childhood Days passed by that were so good Your home is fond memories In depth without summaries Your home is somewhere to come back to Giving you a purpose, something to do Your home is your life So forget all your strife Go back now and live it up Everyday is Saturday The world is just a storm in a cup Go home and left come what may To Scream To scream is to bear witness To the eternal struggle of life To scream is to cry out For some help we all need To scream is to whisper subtlety You just want to be explicit To scream is to set free All that inside you that niggles To scream is to roar like a lion Growling against your competitors To scream is to let go of hang-ups All that quiet public vision To scream is to not care About anyone or anything less important than you To scream is to indulge yourself Something we all need to do To scream is to signal your terror To signal sorrow, anger and then joy Cosmopolitics Your covers are glossy Reflecting things that surround Instead of absorbing Your spine is thin yet strong Surgical precision rolls up and down Posture too good for commoners Your figure is ridiculous You are all Polaroid pixie sticks Without the innocent sugar high Your eyes are like muddied lakes Any addict would swim in them Just to make a score Your fingernails are synthetic Just like your face, thighs and ass Those breasts belong as chicken coat cellophane You are the genuine fake The lady of lax Another one of all you Hollywood hacks Jackass Johnny and friends join together Anarchic stunts they endure heartily Crashing from skit to skit goes Bam Margera Knoxville started a phenomenon so smartly All teenagers bow in awe forever Such sights entertain to the max so hardy So much joy from so much pain self-induced enough to sever **Dedicated to the Jackass team. Thanks for a thousand laughs and a thousand more to come!** Itch Unscratched I've got red lights in my eyes They burn so hot for such a small size I've got sirens in my ears They ring so loud and echo a thousand tears I've got blood drops on my hand They roll around before drying to sand Somehow I see the inner everyone And I don't like what I see - what they have done Somehow I see the screams And they give me headaches and dreams Somehow I see why I don't fit in And so I sit alone - where to begin? All I want is closure On this twisted life of torture All I want is warmth and safety On this cold rock I ponder lately All I want is to sleep like the dead On and on all night - dreams so sweet in my head Flesheater The wound is deep and raw Flinching sharply at the sight of such gore It itches so much And bleeds as I scratch as such How long will it last? I don't know I received this 'gift' in darkness My fate sealed with as much harshness It's dressed and clean But stringy and lean How long will I toss and turn? This is my final innings I must share and spread my winnings As I cough, splutter and choke My blood runs cold and quick to soak How long will I walk afterward? Forever How To To ride myself of thoughts unwanted What should I do? Should I hammer nails through my skull? Let them escape and live life so dull? To achieve a goal What should I do? Wear studded shoes and pickaxe my way up? Produce my own storm in a cup? To gain the one I want What should I do? Dress up flash, trim down and be confident? Living a lying life in front of her? To make sense of it all What should I do? Bottle things up and send to sea? Never to express again Or should I see where the wind blows me? Overshadow I meet up with all my friends We laugh But I turn vegetative in front of her I walk around the streets As if I am concrete But the staring eyes I dream of scare I work hard and block out normal impulse I get the grades I want or very near at least But I'm missing out on teenage life I write these things and feel it flood off my chest It's a good practice But will they like it and care to share thoughts? I am me after all And that is, as they say, that But overshadow haunts behind, somewhere Buried In A Room Under The Soil I'm glued to the walls As the room shakes me around Bouncing me like so many rubber balls To an eerie, whining sound My face is laced in plastic And I blow air bubbles in and out The pull of the material forever tantric As I struggle, I scream and shout My arms are stripped and raw Lined all over with nine-inch-nails The most gruesome sight I ever saw The euphoric morphine - my head sails The nails on my toes are painted Leg hair burned away Leaving a smell, the air is tainted Why am I here - why don't they say? My eyes are stapled open The red veins and tender flesh on show To escape, I need one token And then can I go? |