divendres, 19 d’agost de 2011

bleach you

You call yourself a family man, stuck in a distorted history made by your rules
in moral values rooted in the past.

My brothers are strangers, my timeline is a curve, smoking when it's deadly, not drinking to forget, I want to watch the Pope making porn with a nun.

Your wife, white trash hardcore believer,was bought in eviction, you see her as your property and treat her as a mule.

My partner is an individual, she's one, with me, we are two, for me a family man is far from being you.

And then you come to my place, just tell me what's your truth, try to sell me your bullshit, my offer...screw you.

dimecres, 30 de març de 2011

small town runaway

cracked glass returns a crack image which you can't recall yours, which shows nothing but flaws. Smoked windows which don't let intrusive eyes break in have block the light and tamed the devouring monsters fed by need.

No needs, no fears, now open your eyes as there is no will.