All the world's but chemical tricks. Nothing's permanent so nothing will stick. Love & hate; illusory;places that we used to be. It never mattered if you were close to your family or if you disowned them resentfully and angrily. Scum or a saint, protest or complain, no need to feel uncertain or to apologize. No need to feel guilty for ignoring the cries of wolves posturing as "people" posturing as "holy". I say we piss on that grave and poke out that bogie. NO TRUTH ONLY PERCEPTION: I am you and you are me. DO WHAT THOU WILT BE THE WHOLE OF THE LAW; Cest la' vie Stir up the pot. Cause a commotion. Cause an(d) affect as wings of a butterfly to the ocean. Keep to yourself or give it all away. Do what thou wilt to keep your demons at bay. It feels as if karmic responsibility to be "happy" or "glad" - when the secret to success is letting go-going-mad. Doing away with "doing away" - letting go of "letting go"s. Head first into the rabbit hole and surely it shows by the war paint of stress resting on my face; comfortably uneasy and out of place. I'm out of place. Out of touch. Taking my sweet ass time just to be in a rush. I'm not saying "Piss em off" just because you CAN. But soley to inspire someone who CANT. Positive thinking is entirely subjective and blessed be those who learn to remain objective. So DO ART THOU WILT be the whole of the law. Be a fucking prick. Be a fucking saint. Be anything besides what you ain't. Whether you receive compliment or complain't, at least you know you ain't got shit for brains. I wanna do bad things and fill up the void where love once lived before was deployed. I wanna eat up all the aderall and blow all the coke. I wanna tell your hot ass mom inappropriate jokes. One of these days I'll emancipate myself from that MUDHONEY trauma, stop standing in my own way of having a worthy baby mama. I wanna be full of divine light but I prefer the dark, completely obsessed with branding this world with my mark. It's like music is my ego and romance is my spirit. Can't live by only one so I'll never be delivered.

You feel uncertain. We feel secure. Pass all the judgement you want but we are secure. You like yours plain-vanilla. WE prefer sprinkles & variety. I love when she chokes out and kills my anxiety. Well no disrespect to your queen or your king. But YOU wrote those vows and YOU chose those rings. WE found some rope so we chose to s w i n g. Feeling a love this free I refuse to write about being depressed. My lovers touching my heart while that girl's touchin' on her breast. What a beautiful blow of expectations. A gleeful bow to open relations she said "You are my person. I said "You too are my person" while we're young we'll have our fun. We aren't the shackled. We do the shackling. I know where your heart lies and where we stand. That's why I ain't trippin' 'bout that other man. We're taking safe measures. Step by step, passing back and forth all the secrets we have kept all along the way of previously failed monogamy. I showered you in love with a fate-sealed kiss, stroked one another in hedonistic bliss. What more could a lover fucking ask for? What more fucking could a lover ask for.

I don't support disingenuous art, following crowds, following clicks. I go to shows to support artists I love not ride coat tails, show fake love & politic. I see you talkin' down to people on the social media who didn't stick around to catch your shitty fucking band. You entitled mother fuckers deserve to catch these heavy hands. No one sticks around because your band fucking sucks. When REAL RECOGNIZE REAL that means you're shit out of luck. Fuck muzzling expression. Keep that shit real and raw. Offending people en-route of creating your art is not synonymous with breaking a law. But if it was I'd break every one. Every single one. I take dealing with phonies the same way I take a joke. The same way I take snake-ass-people blowin' me that smoke. The same way I like my liquor. The same way I blow my coke: Straight up. This the type of shit no stations will air. I'm a PR's Worst fucking nightmare. My opinions are way too loud & I gotta jaded attitude. I'm a PR's Worst fucking nightmare. "Mosh pits are too violent, attitudes way too pushy"? Nah Homie, you're just a giant fucking pussy. How much do you know about yourself if you've never been in a fight? You should stick in the back where it's safe, sipping b lights & lip syncing all night.

I saw you on the floor copping nods: "Is he doing yoga? or on the line with god?". You kept telling me everything's fine when I could feel something was wrong. You just wanted to make excuses and I just wanted to help you write some songs. More sober than you, less pissed off than ever. The-fuck with trying to be witty and cynically clever. [I will have] Happiness and joy in my life, [even if it means living] anxiously on edge. Better a straight face than a straight jacket and teetering over the ledge... Of dumb-will and even dumber conversations; poor company with poor judgement who make narrow minded observations about how I should think and how I should feel, distorting my perception of what's "holy" or what's "real". Don't guilt-trip me for getting mad. This ain't the first time I've found these blue bags. I drank while you drugged to dilute the fact that my best friend was a piece of shit until I caught em' tryna taste on my MUDHONEY and served him up some shots he'll never forget. I loved her even though she was weak. Held that boys hands when he had no feet. and THATS the fucking thanks that I get? To my childhood friend turned junkie who chose heroin over my unconditional love, who'd rather be a part-time thief and a full-time fuck up, who stole all my shit and prostituted my love: I hope i'm there when you align with your unlucky stars up above. I hope the weight of your decisions is too much to bear. I hope no one's at your funeral because nobody cares. I hope when you leave your body you get get stuck in the "in-between" where you watch everyone you've ever betrayed live happily ever as can be. oh, by the way! Both dumb enough to get caught. I hope his dealer serves him up fentanyl shots. You were a half-decent friend, always telling china-white-lies. The only slack I couldn't pick up were the bags under your eyes. I'm alotta flawed things but a junkie ain't one. Tell your daddy that I'm sorry but I couldn't save his son. I was too naive to notice when you used it. Thought all we needed was one another and the music. A raging alcoholic for a wife and a junkie for a son. It's no wonder what your stoic father walked away from. Manipulative tactics, impulsive urges and greed - that's why you waited until I wasn't looking to steal that low-hanging fruit hanging from my tree. Unlike you I'm self-sufficient so that bad apple's on me. That filthy harlot didn't even wait a week before she gave up that peach and decided to carry your tainted seed. I will find peace and clarity without "The Nodcopper" & "Muddhoney" I drank while you drugged to dilute the fact that my best friend was a piece of shit until I caught em' tryna taste on my MUDHONEY and served him up some shots he'll never forget. I loved her even though she was weak. Held that boys hands when he had no feet. And THATS the fucking thanks that I get?

Surrounded by heaven/covered in hell, lucy-lenses taught me how to tell, the difference between... a world seen grey and grass saw green. My girl use to blanket me in love but I still showered her in fear, spat out sarcasms when I really should've been sincere. I wanna be the be the man when I got them lucy-lenses on; Secure & ultra self aware. At peace with my future and my past, where I let my inner child out to fly & forever let me ego crash. Fortunately I'm lucky to know: HOW DEEP THE RABBIT WHOLE OF DISCOVERING ONES SELF GOES OH! AND! My impulse to defend my angst is profuse. "Childhood Trauma" - No longer valid excuse. Unfortunately I've subscribed to writers who I thought had the antidote to suffering; an unexpected virus to my hard drive. Eternal buffering. Have you ever noticed how everything's gonna be just fine and grey?! The west ain't ready for them psychedelic colors or unfamiliar shapes. Been around my momma my whole damn life but the other day I met her for the very first time. I saw the sky in the truest shade of blue. When I reflected in the mirror that's when I knew: To discontinue perpetuating my own misery I need to continue to bow before universal mysteries as well as my future disdain for my personal histories. Meaninglessly purposeful and vibrantly illusory, now-a-days the future just ain't what it used to be. I love you all the most but right now I need to love myself a little more. SURROUNDED BY HEAVEN BUT COVERED IN HELL: I'll refrain from picking mental scabs, while touching tongue to transcendental tabs.

All the world's but chemical tricks. Nothing's permanent so nothing will stick. Love & hate; illusory;places that we used to be. It never mattered if you were close to your family or if you disowned them resentfully and angrily. Scum or a saint, protest or complain, no need to feel uncertain or to apologize. No need to feel guilty for ignoring the cries of wolves posturing as "people" posturing as "holy". I say we piss on that grave and poke out that bogie. NO TRUTH ONLY PERCEPTION: I am you and you are me. DO WHAT THOU WILT BE THE WHOLE OF THE LAW; Cest la' vie Stir up the pot. Cause a commotion. Cause an(d) affect as wings of a butterfly to the ocean. Keep to yourself or give it all away. Do what thou wilt to keep your demons at bay. It feels as if karmic responsibility to be "happy" or "glad" - when the secret to success is letting go-going-mad. Doing away with "doing away" - letting go of "letting go"s. Head first into the rabbit hole and surely it shows by the war paint of stress resting on my face; comfortably uneasy and out of place. I'm out of place. Out of touch. Taking my sweet ass time just to be in a rush. I'm not saying "Piss em off" just because you CAN. But soley to inspire someone who CANT. Positive thinking is entirely subjective and blessed be those who learn to remain objective. So DO ART THOU WILT be the whole of the law. Be a fucking prick. Be a fucking saint. Be anything besides what you ain't. Whether you receive compliment or complain't, at least you know you ain't got shit for brains. I wanna do bad things and fill up the void where love once lived before was deployed. I wanna eat up all the aderall and blow all the coke. I wanna tell your hot ass mom inappropriate jokes. One of these days I'll emancipate myself from that MUDHONEY trauma, stop standing in my own way of having a worthy baby mama. I wanna be full of divine light but I prefer the dark, completely obsessed with branding this world with my mark. It's like music is my ego and romance is my spirit. Can't live by only one so I'll never be delivered.