Wild-eyed once widowed window washer's son
Worldviewed through water streaked lenses and salt deposits
Disregard the reedy tones and lack of proper illumination
It might be as I've suspected; that my irises are gray and not blue
I don't want to be made victims of miscommunication
I'd never allow myself the convenience of holding it against you


I mean, if I am just gonna post some really weakass bullshit. However, I like this one, so FUCKITWHATEVAAAAA. Also, by the way these read, I have clearly been listening to far too much Elliott Smith. Shit's starting to rub off on me.

Stuck at an autoshop waiting to get a tire patched, I would normally be working right now but I guess it's gotta get done and I'm still getting paid for my time. Feels weird, but I am not really complaining. So I am sitting here in this waiting room chugging strongbrewed shitty coffee and slapping words together.

Fingernails clicking and clacking, caffeine tirelessly heart attacking
Pushing forward poorly hidden agendas without the committee's backing
Hacking and slacking hard work or maybe more thereof lacking
Tripped my own trap and found one big bear of a burden
Spitting blood and sentences composed of words n'
Heavy breaths without many proper purposes
Finding that I might not be a beast of substance,
But more one of uncontrolled substances
I've not much appreciation for the subtleties of taste or fine habits
I'd probably be content consuming ash if the stomach'd have it

And it grew a bit, though it is maybe now even more disjointed/incoherent as a result:

Stuck in this waiting room when I should chasing squirrels and Volkswagen rabbits
Sentimentally retarded dopeless romantic, track record's shit but I'd take another stab at it
Talking out of my ass because the tongue's tied up with tinsel and twine
Everyone's asking for a sign but I've but one request slash proposal
Pull my head out of the gutter and jam it down the garbage disposal

I am not fond of all parts, but this is as it lives for now.

I don't really know why, but I think this might be finest line I have ever put together. Google says the words have never been strung together even checking a couple different ways of wording it, and it is pretty fucking true:

I hate everybody and everyone loves me for it

When I really think about it, pretty much everyone I know really likes me, largely for the fact that I am good at being a well-mannered asshole. I just don't find the idea of that to be particularly cool, so I pretend/sometimes convince myself people hate me. I just need to find a way to fit it into one of my writings in a proper manner, and then YEAH. I will be happy about that.

As usual, just sort of pieces of things that come to me:

So sure that one day your father will rise from his temporary tomb
Natural to you, but funny to me the shit that you assume
Your fine things a formality of being crafted in his glorious image
Don't thank god: thank luck, fuck and white privilege


Sometimes collar bones weep to me in my sleep
Sometimes "fuck off", sometimes refusing to talk
Sometimes destroying me with lovely little fingers
Tearing the feathers from this flightless bird bearing a smiley stare
Ripping thin skin from hollow bones with ribbons in her hair

Spontaneously combusting every other night
Thoughts made of barbed wire or thermite
Most right left without any time to think
Sink or swim ain't much fun when you've got concrete feet

Made that one thinger work in a sort of halfassed manner:

Inconsiderate shithead nervous wreck
Laughing at cars crashing and news of death
Offer me good advice and I will ignore it
I hate everyone and everybody loves me for it

Enjoying yet another chemically imbalanced breakfast
Chewing loudly and spewing proudly of negligence
Self efficacy seeming like a distant land's delicacy

The "I am retarded" words just seem to be falling out of my head these days.

May god damn the state of Alaska if he hasn't already
Unfortunate sorts of introspection becoming my baby; we're going steady
This place is Miles Davis Freezing Motherfucking Cold
Cheers to the sick bastard that filled the hills here with oil and gold

IT'S SEPTEMBER 20TH AND IT'S 20 MOTHERFUCKING GODDAMNED DEGREES OUTSIDE
DREAMING ABOUT SOMEHOW SETTING FIRE TO THE GLACIERS
DREAMING OF DROWNING EVERY SON OF A WHORE WITH A SMILE MILES WIDE

Preeeetty sure these are going to end up as DM lyrics:

I am the death of school spirit and the inception of venereal infection
I am the bruises on the faces of battered children and a eunuch's erection

I would really like to be in a position to get paid to just drink coffee and be mentally insane.

Fifty thousand failed attempts to grow up
Chugged down so much water and sunlight I might throw up
Telling the thinker to shut up when I know that it won't
Fantasizing things that maybe most normal people don't
How catching a stray, blameless slug sure sounds right swell
All of them crying over shrimp cocktail while I burn in hell

Elephant memory and timestuck emotional maturity
Hide the truth or brandish it as some sort of fucked trophy
12 year old's attention span, penchant for the alarming
Instilling doubtless doubt, all the while disarming
Have these monuments progressed to disgusting from charming?
We'll see if I find these tired words garbage in the morning

Spiro Agnew
Walter Mondale
Hubert Humphrey
Gerald Ford

Supplicator
Masturbator
Kiss the ring
Prepare to be ignored

...Book 'em, Dano!

[solo]

Jaw gnashing and aching
Strong longing for shitbreaking
Rowdy, crowded, loud and twitching and itching
Sprucing up sentences with slurred syllables and bitching

I GET LOST A LOT, LIKE A FUCKLOT WHETHER LOCATION, COMMUNICATION OR CONCEPTUAL
FUNNY HOW MANY NOBRAINED FUCKS MISTAKE ME FOR AN INTELLECTUAL

BLAMELESS AND SHAMELESS, IT GETS SOLD SO HARD AND SO MANY ARE BUYING
SPAWNING FUTURE FILTH, ASSUMING FORGIVENESS BECAUSE THEY SWEAR THEY'RE FUCKING TRYING
THEY SHOVEL FRIES AND BACON GREASE INTO THEIR FACES AND WONDER WHY THEY'RE DYING

SITTING SIPPING COFFEE AND COUGHING IN MY COFFIN
FACELESS CASKETCASE RUNNING RACES WITH LEG BRACES
I ONLY FUCK WITH VELCRO, NO TIME FOR TYING LACES
FAR TOO BUSY CLEANING UP THE PERPETUALLY RESIDUAL TRACES OF VOMIT FROM THE CORNERS OF MY MOUTH

I have never stopped growing sick of supplementing your absence with poison
Glass and paper kisses are very bitter, stainingly so
There is no shelter from this, neither in stupor nor slumber
Sweet dreams of your Volkswagen cutting me down like lumber
Wake and bake and break shit and take it with a few thousand grains of salt
The lines between adoration and mental illness are blurring
Though I've no doubt in the whispered words I'm always slurring

Painting you pictures with shaking arms and broken hands
Potato bugs and gauze set behind panes of glass
Hashing out the specifics of these inspecifics
I'd like to think I'm getting proper poor at it
Drawing presumably incorrect conclusions
Sussed out from your fave-o-rite words and noises

All relatively consequential, nothing might be coincidental
Patterns and petals and mettlesome mental meander
Good intentions are all subjective to perspective
Why am I plotting escape plans when the gates aren't even guarded?
Why am I worried about myself when everyone I know is retarded?
Say what you will, but I've more wit and grace even with shitface

I am mildly hammered:

Multiplicity of undesirable mischief, drunk enough to forget the word gibberish
Scribble this down digitally in my disgustingly convenient cellular device
Dryheaving artificial deathwish sort of thought processes
Celebrating their very special insignificant nonsense successes
Sick at masturbatory displays of pride, wedded to a decomposing bride
Fuck them, curse them and damn them to hell's deepest depths
They've tongues of silver, prose of fool's gold and wooden teeth
You're my very favorite and I refuse to let their deceptive faces confuse me

Ya know, sometimes I feel like the biggest asshole about the way I write lyrics. Subject matter aside which it it's own ordeal, I don't know how to not be a complete douchebag about abusing my vocabulary in a probably super douchey way.

Also, it is so stupidly fucking unadvisable for me to drinking alcohol in regards to my mental health. I am a moron, but beer tastes way too fucking good.