Archive for the ‘lyrics’ Category

Codenames for Bad Dreams

Posted: January 3, 2017 in dreams, drugs, lyrics

All the worst girls that I ever knew
Were just codenames for bad dreams
Packet of pills and a bottle of blue
Codenames for bad dreams

You wanna live, you wanna laugh
But it’s over too soon and now you’re lost
You wanna give it to the past,
But it’s over too soon and now you’re lost

Cause you’ll never get enough
From a strange spacedust
And a stranger that you trust
When your money goes bust
And you’re holed up in a flat
With a monkey on your back
With a broken spoon handle
And the tip is turning black
And you need a new dream
But you can’t fall asleep
Cause your medicine was mixed
With a mystery….

Left on Burned

Posted: February 21, 2016 in lyrics, madness, poetry, rap lyrics, writer's block


Unless I can become like chameleon
ready to feel again, steady enough to in my own head
deal again
with the spinning wheel that keeps stealing
every deal I was ever in
Like a clever pin
always flies away from it’s own donkey tail
cause what taught me failed to teach me
to stop haunting what I preach
with lies over-reached
Every whale on every beach sinking
back into the ocean and thinking it’s close
to where it’s supposed to be
meaning as a mammal of metaphor
an animal edit store
of energy, memory and angst
an inch from death pinched
doom breath of old turtle toon talking
spoon walking red herring overload
exploding into a prolapsed sun
expanding into the new universe
of unheard, wish and well-lookers held
fed all the ego juice so it breathes
grows fruit mold Pegasus wings
and flies between the fridge door
give birth to a new monster
haunt the kids for crying
staying up
watching R rated films
pocketing nightmares
like models of a horror kiln
over turned on burned the house down
turned on burned the house down
burned on build the house found
burned on learned the house down
left on burned the house down

A fighter
muscles left to pound themselves out
stress obsessed with a shiny grimy magazine
vision of science fiction
tugging at the gravel scabs of being airplane spun
out the driveway window
out of the highway symbols
when the absent glow of traffic cone robots
gives a last lift home to the last bit of hope
of decency of an asshole drunk cyclone
on hypnosis self-help clone training videos
to train your clones to hide in ninja clothes
so you can try to whip their asses
when they jump out at you
but when they jump out at you they are too trained
and your brain is being paved
as the triple pane of glass on the driveway window
on the highway high-speed chase
CGI fight scene of you
fighting a loose tooth and a screws loose
and a cyborg goose laying gold plate
hiphop beats that hide as rawhide transformers
enhanced torture on every fantasy
of every leper colony dirt bag beggars cup
left open to suck up all the writers block
and all nighters chalk
outlining your body like god was a hobby
you forgot to read the instructions about
and now you try to build a cloud
out of IKEA Lego towns
but the tools are for an alien species
and your hand cannot handle these
wood panel cheese volvo
station wagon memories
left burned on
set upon words
messed tongs turned
bar-b-que bird
and I am not a cute cartoon stuffed friend human
to hold close like aspirin
I am not your last ditch effort dad asking
if your sister washed your hair again
not the garbage being walked out
to get burned
I get burned by being left on burned



puppet dregs money crash

Posted: January 25, 2016 in grim future, lyrics, madness

yo fuck the status quo
I got a dream of something floppier
Y’all say I got make money or drop
Than watch me opt out of here

cause I caught a whiff of being stricken
sick with pen ink addiction
dripping spiderweb sink strings
make me a puppet predictingI see the simulation stale
stock dropping as we minding
ten tails of the pale horses
dead jockeys that ride’em

cause if money never sleeps
then she never wakes up screaming
that Oliver Stone cheated her
bleeding heart out of meaning

I’m screening signals like
panhandlers panning for gold
who can’t do what they can’t
so just do what their told

bold move

Cut Stickens
what’d you expect from the dregs
of pen ink addiction