Blessed are the trouble-made.
From the bend up to the gate
we wandered torchy crowded ways.
we cruelly clattered clouded days.
What guides us is not so complex
things need a mobbing is all, we guess.

Purple hands and poor circulation
Product of radio rock resentment and a bad blood combination

<dildo instrumental - 16 bars>

I got a herd of swine on the banks of the Rhine
I'll kick your motherfuckin' ass to Newcastle-upon-Tyne
I got fifteen thrills for a nickel and dime
I'm bustin' phat rhymes from the depths of a coal mine

Altercationer, some picture perfect pugnacious,
all knuckles out and waxed tips
with a side of canned beef and steamships.

I'm haulin' oats upon my boats
got a dose of the clap and a cargo of stoats
drinkin' gin with a drunken whore
I only spent ten dollars but I gotta few more, yeah

Got the illest rhymes this side of the Pacific
the sickest beats that are just monolithic
doin' time for a crime makin' bitches pay
got a never-endin' tribute to Morris Day

Uh, yeah. Czech it out Czech it out
Uh, yeah
Drop da bass, yo

Fuck it, cut the kite string and watch you drift away

(To the tune of "Itsy Bitsy Spider", sort of):

First Lord Of The Adm'ralty,
what the hell was said?
Dental floss,
Monkey toss
Pocket full of lead.

Yes, women in white dresses haunt your wet dreams
It's probably tumors, man
It's probably that fucking microwave

raped by an eagle

Much youth spent in weary headed travel
A man of the world, tread until tired
Came upon crystal caves of amethyst
There I was greeted by timid little batfolk
They spoke in tones like flutes and whistles
A sharp sweetness gracing every note



King Fuck and conquerer of Shit Mountain
Baptized in the lifeblood of the dishonest
Wish for peaceful places possessing posthumous silence


I had words at one point
At one point I had words
Though I've seen to lost them
They're somewhere under waves
Or maybe hidden just above the clouds
I could get outside and look
But I'd rather stay in my bed


Shake in fear of tomorrow
As I slay tonight
Knees turn to bendy straws
Eyes just like headlights

I'm a fucking veteran
How goddamned dare you
Son of a cunt and Mike Love
Has nobody sold you?



Words I like that I've written the past couple days. This is your brain on drugs.

Naturally, more crazy people words are spilling out of my head:

Polar bear pallbearers heave the granite caskets
Sullen soil is saturated with the salt of widow tears
All in light of the lack of acknowledgement of traffic lights
They are all so sad, so many dead dads


Inextinguishable gods of rubber and coal
Entrepreneurs, all of you
Providing the privilege of poison air
The conveniences of cancer

This whole bit is illmatic.

Most everything you say disgusts me
Stop being so fucking hot and boring
Perfect proof one needs no meaning to exist
Unconcerned effigy of jimmy hats and ejaculate


Art school, art school
Read some shit: reference
You wanted to sound real smart
So you learned some latin
Regurgitate butchered pronunciation
Fuck, it's great being relevant


I wonder what you think of the songs I write about you
I wonder how're you're doing and how you wore your hair today
I wonder why and what is wrong with my fucked up brain
I wonder in search of an exit, another way


So begins the slow and natural process of my imminent self destruction
Ride this fucker out in style and complete disorientation




On a related note: I can definitely feel myself sinking into the batshit. I NEED TO RESOLVE SOME MENTAL ISSUES, BRO.

Here I am, lit again
Pondering the possible lives of soap opera actors
Brain liquidates like full melt hash
Drips out my nose and falls in my lap

A black tracker, a stick stacker, a word of single syllables that starts a trip strapper.
A strip trapper, a stack sticker, a track blacker, that cracked quicker.

How does one go about breaking bones
And replacing hearts with cellular phones
Put me back together whatever the remainder
Just trust me, I'm a fucking doctor

Half chewed melt brain bonafide batshit
Halved a hacksaw in two with a blunt hatchet
Our blood is running something fierce
And we have so very little hope to catch it