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 you would play and have fun by yourself and then you saw other children playing and you climbed your fence and wente to play with them and it was fun then your smiles became dependent on theirs and stories you heard then of a monkey that only wants to see red so destroys things that are not red i dream of him exploding my motor so that i wont see red everytime i drive down the street my car starts breaking down on me and i write this down but nothings changed only i change or hope to chenge. sometimes its hard to tell if you are really in love or blinded and maybe you should change yourself and stop wasting your time maybe one day it will be the end of the world with shrieks outside your door and it will be too late others do secret things in their space where they live or where a straw boss called their name out and they wished they were invisible and all of the coffee breaks in the world wont help you and social interaction will only fake you there is sometimes nothing that you can do so what are you supposed to think? when people call you, look at you, say they are comming over do you thiunk that they are like little children trying to have fun untill someone gets ofended or someone talks bad about someone who isnt there or maybe you are happy until someone you love is in the hospital or is far away from talking to people you don't know or on a boat under perfect darkened starry skies all alone you wish you could be there with them and you wish that two people could really be happy with other it was easier when you were a child and everything that is happy and fun now is an attempt at recreating your backyard when you first saw others and dreamt that with them you could be happier than tou were alone. III __________________________
THE STIJL  When ideas become too complicated, and the pursuit of perfection is misconstrued as a need for excess. When there is so muck involved that individual componets cannot be discerned. When it is hard to break the rules of excess, then new rules need to be established. It descends back to the beginnig where the construction of things visual or aural is too uncomplicated to not be beautiful. But this is done in the knowledge that we can only become simple to a point and there is nowhere else to go. There are definite natural things which cannot be broken down into lesser components. Even if the goal of achieving beauty from simplicity is aesthetically less exciting it may force the mind ti acknowledge the simple components that make the complicated beautiful. III __________________________
WHITE BLOOD CELLS Original Text  Holding these truth to be judged forever - the mark, the string, the skin and the vibration all set and aiming to please. This sister with her hands, and this brother with his knees. The slide is in the pocket and this neighborhood is showing up more than that. Our friends aren't here to hepl, but maybe that's the best they could give. An old song is also best but sometimes too easy. "How else can we help you?", the brother said, and the sister replied "I don't know." The south is there and always will be. The north is home wether it's friendly or not. Something's going to let us know that these are the good days to remember, after children take up our time and take our place. But pride and heppiness are always the same distance from our hands. III _________________________
ELEPHANT
 BURN BABY burn, take the trash to the living room, laugh at the sweetherart, you and your friend can kill it if televisions aim is bad, break it, hard or die. It keep going, you're not wrong, don't worry about it, what matters? You're having fun right? Break the rules rebel, break them hard, help yourself. Make yourself at home, turn on the video games, don't bother to contact, gorge yourself, it's all here for you, take your sweet time, if you're confronted by it, blow it off and get paid quick. This is what it's all about, and we're with you baby, take my bite as high support, take my argument as just something that's my problem, you don't need this, you need to please yourself. The Dream is alive and well, and we don't want to wake up from it. Ethics, morals, spirits, breakfast cereals. HONESTY IN bloom, heart on sleeve, life ever exposed and safe, Courtesy to them, and all you know, cinnamom and cider mills past last night's drenched roof shingeles, down and cotton covered breath, out in the open with nothing to hide, mention of soft paper and pine, soda powder and brown paper bags, angora and hound's tooth, youth and canvas, fresh color, blind chance and forward stumble, scarlet mood, and white ivory shimmering laugh, safe in mind and comfort in home, absent of flies and anger, blankets of you own, peaches in cellar, subtle hair and skin, sand and leaf, felt napkin and clothing line, warm air from heating vent, show on ground, reunions of sane unforced presence, motherly intervention help in suspense, enrapture holy sight, reception in halls, your Sunday go to meeting, your helping hand, your summersault, your attic, your home and your preservations, so simple, so untouched, this is as wise as raven and easy to trust, yet have they known, and yet may they wonder, with words and thought and thorn, this spirit and persona under. GET BEHIND ME SATAN 
Original Text III ICKY THUMP  Original Text: “I saw an image of someone I once knew today and it made me write down my first impressions, I don’t normally tend to do that, guess that makes me and impressionist. I don't normally tend todo that. Guess that makes me an impressionist: Looks like there’s a storm coming Looks like somebody told you to smile Looks like your waiting there for someone Looks like you’ll be waiting there for a while Guess you’d rather not think about it much Guess you’d rather not think about much at all Guess you know just what they like Guess you don’t know much at all Feels like your just passing the time, sometimes Feels like your were never really a friend of mine Feels like ghosts do walk among us And I guess it looks as it feels I do like impressions though, I once saw a man completely impersonate another man who was not unlike himself if you actually thought about it. Which I did. “Who would have thought” needs a question mark at the end of it, doesn’t it? A lot of those symbols a the end of things bother me, actually I can’t be bothered. They make a symbol in sheet music when the write wants you to keep playing till the cows come home, but I forget what’s it’s called. I like that idea though. Playing until someone “decides” it’s time to stop based on the feel of the room. What’s the longest it could go on? I imagine that every time I see that symbol. What if there was a room that had just the right vibe in it, just the right amount of energy to push, and inspire, and invigorate a conductor and her entire orchestra, to hold that last note until…they couldn’t even remember they held it that long? When there’s a world record for something, it’s an extreme thing. How big is the biggest of it’s kind? And how did it get to the point where the conditions called for something so massive to be constructed? It’s baffling, Beautiful though. Icky thump." III |
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