raja-flattery

STREETLIGHTS ILLUMINATE MOSTLY DISSATISFACTION one and forty-five past midnight, and i can see trees like dead men's fingers stretching up from the deep.  fingers tracing through mist, like cigarette smoke or the breath of the dead.  this is not a pleasant image.  it highlights amongst other things a certain realisation that there must be more to it all than this.  and this is something that i certainly know to be true.  there is more, and i can reach it.  i know what it is, i just have to seize it.  and i wouldn't say no if you were there to help me.  did you hear me?  i wouldn't say no if you were there to help me.  if i can hear myself ma

MAYBE FOR YOU, HATRED IS ENOUGH on streets made of knives, by lights like eyes, with bruised fists, bloody noses, broken bones, they're watching, waiting, forever hating. they'd make conflict permanent, love transient. enough. our history is replete with fear not concrete, and we don't cry when your lies die. and you can't sell distrust any more, we're seeing the light and it's not saying war. showing tabloid rants beside nazi chants, as though everyone danced the fascist dance. dim streets of silence veil secret violence, but this isn't forever; we can make it not today. our history is replete with fear not concrete, and we do

Ride, Panzer Commander, ride!  Your atom bomb is a dragnet.  Fifty years of history and you're still rocking.  The peace pipe is a smoking gun - proof is a misnomer, liberation a paradox, and all the kids are rocking.  Televisual treats are sumptuous - aim for the journalists, boys, you're bound to hit something when the bombs are dropping.  Human interest = human _life subservient to vested_ interests.  Blood for oil or oil is blood?  Drink, vast parasite!  Ride, Panzer Commander, ride!  We're right behind you, now and nevermore.

touch, sight, taste, smell. audio disruption. sensation. you held it all in the palm of your hand. you had it all. you gave it away to static. taste the test pattern. observe the plasticity. smell fear. touch lightning. can you hear? that is the sound of progress choking. you gave it all up for an afternoon in. all your hopes and dreams oxidise. unfulfilled. and somewhere tins roll out to the supermarkets. that is your future now. the dreamer died of neglect. do you buy your aspirations now? taste hopelessness, and reconsider space and time.

semper fidelis buddy. we are the youth, and they're the youth, and we're our scene. dissatisfaction is unity and you're lying in our path. stand aside, back down, lie in the dust and die. stand aside, back down, lie in the dust and die. you're more irrelevant day by day, because the passionate shall inherit the earth and stars. one day all this shall be ours. stand aside, back down, lie in the dust and die. stand aside, back down, lie in the dust and die.

who are you to tell us that we're still fucking beautiful? we never were. when our mouths are open and our voices loud, that's when we're fucking beautiful. open your mouth, open your mind. open your mouth, open your mind. keep telling us that it doesn't matter because it does. your self-denial is a weapon against you, and we're not afraid to fly. open your mouth, open your mind. open your mouth, open your mind. you're a nobody and people like us are everything. we'll inherit you when you rot.

sanity's burning and who's fiddling? sanity's burning and who's fiddling? you're the emperor, the bigger-than-thou, you're the man and i've flipped the ante. welcome to my paradise. burn. welcome to my paradise. scorn. welcome to my paradise, is it all the nightmare you hoped? who's the demon in your fever? who's the demon in your fever? taste the darkness, shit the shadow. your torture is not my joy and i'm blind. welcome to my paradise. burn. welcome to my paradise. choke. welcome to my paradise, is it all the nightmare you hoped? am i all the fear you ever wanted?