MOUTH OVER MATTER
Time for some Bachman Turner Overdrive to launch us into space. With random words scattered and splattered all over the place. Put in the key to kickstart the NG'ine once moar. The audience want moar... silence from this pesky pest, or at least tested for brain damage. Nothing but a head dammed with rage and crammed with strange thoughts that age and mature in the mind until they have to be placed on a page for this aud. ience. Pouring out tropes at the emporium or anything else that floats your boat, a salutatorian with more sting than a scorpion. More knowledge than an historian. But still unable to play Victoria 2 without resorting to a help guide or a forum. Time to uninstall that shit and get back down to business, time to re-engage with my fellow readers and listeners. Distracted as I retract my foreskin so that my sperm can be easily extracted. Time to get out the lamplight and my backside back on the backbite. Take out my graphite pencil and go mental again. instead of spewing stew from my Jap's eye. Wake up from the nap I've been trapped in for too long, so I should get to work and start on some new songs. Two wrongs don't make a right, but I can write about the two wrongs to clear out the mites. Make sure I do it tonight. Before I inherit writer's block and skewed eyes. Get frustrated and eat the page like Shoenice, then choke because it wont make its way through the food pipe. Cause of Death - your own disjointed thoughts a poison in your throat. Boy you didn't know that it would come to this, like a fun-loving woman gagging on a hundred dicks. The white mud sticks huh? Life is a bitch huh? No barrier is going to stop me, no limit or taboo. Fuck it, I'll get myself a freedom of expression tattoo. Or a REVOLution t-shirt to wear in the streets to show where my allegiances lie. If I have to die for my freedom of right to express myself in whichever light I like, I might as well fight to the end of my lifespan. A rebel that refused to buckle, even when the teachers took the pen from my left and made me write with my right hand. Proud lefty vows to sketch from hefty heights and shit on those that wont let me fly. A classified drug for the masses, Diplomatic words can bring peace to Damascus, instead of people wearing masks and chopping off heads, its disastrous. Madness in practice, endorsed by the west and these other satanic draculas. Once over, the world was perfect, immaculate, and now its just coated in ejaculate and inaccurate media fables, unstable regions, nations and races fighting, its shameless, in order to legislate baseless surveillance. This planet sucks liquid ass fragrance, it all stems back to ancient mason times and heinous rituals. Humans are a sebaceous cyst, a contagious plague of mist, and its a shame we're short of courageous risk takers, ready to break ranks in the face of all these snake dictators that create ficticious disputes with neighbours. And turn us all against each other, divide and conquer and create another buffer zone. A reason to close borders rather than deepen our connection with our fellow explorers. A reason to dwell on the isolated, and swell up the problem to get the people hyperventilating. How about we live and let live, build systems for all to benefit instead of forcing the less fortunate to squat in derelict homes. While the queen or pope benedict address those they step over to get to their gold thrones. Give you the cold tones unless you win an award, or you have fought in a war. Taking our plaudits from people that keep their money offshore while innocent dogs snore? Must we inhale the toxins of these poisonous spores? Maybe I'm just ranting, speaking before I think. Like an alcoholic that drinks before he eats. Or a Twitter addict that wil tweet before deleting. That's when the peace police tear apart his real feelings. So he has to retreat. Be treated with scrutiny until it causes a mutiny. And strangers worldwide are practically writing his eulogy because the shit that he wrote just wasn't suitable as euphony. What are they trying to do to me? Be rude and brutal, punish me for my lunacy? I say they're humourless joyless eunuchs, too much of that hubris. Newton's apple fell on their heads. Maybe you should loosen up that tie and standby while sparks fly, instead of trying to outlaw, modify and tyrannise. Step aside while we revolutionise and replace these outdated disguises. Scupper the plans of these puppeteers. Enough here to overthrow a whole corrupt ship of buccaneers. Led by Leonard Tucca and his band of merry motherfuckers. Naval fleets? fuck cannons, I'd rather sweep up maidens and kiss navels, give them orgasms and appraisal until they sleep. Its better to love life and be playful than to blood let and be hateful. Its shameful to protect the interests of such few, and be manipulated without good reason. Imagine if all armies withdrew? And together we built a new legion. All in the name of true freedom. Cut off the food to the beasts that we're feeding, then we can reach for the stars together. Instead of forever having to weather the storm. Its time to believe. The revolution is coming. The crowd are united, walking together like they're ready for something. Ready for change. Ready to break the chains.