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1.
Incomplete
2.
Leave Mine To Me
3.
Stranger Than Fiction
4.
Tiny Voices
5.
The Handshake
6.
Better Off Dead
7.
Infected
8.
Television
9.
Individual
10.
Hooray For Me
11.
Slumber
12.
Marked
13.
Inner Logic
14.
What It Is
15.
21st Century (Digital Boy)
Mother, father, look at your little
monster,
I'm a hero, I'm a zero,
I'm the butt of the worst joke in history,
I'm a lock without a key, a city with no door,
a prayer without faith, a show without a score,
I'm a bad word, a wink, a nod, a shiver,
an untold story, sex without fury,
a creeping gray memory,
I am incomplete . . .
doctor, cure me; what is the cause of my condition,
this madness shoots me,
like bullets smashing glass in silent movie,
I'm a trap without a spring, a temple with no god,
a jack without an ace, the tip of your tongue,
I'm a promise, an un-mailed letter,
an un-built motor, deck without a joker,
a creeping gray memory
I am incomplete . . .
tell Saint Peter not to bet on me,
I am a naked obsession,
a good intention gone bad,
I am incomplete . . .
there are desperate times upon us,
there are codes of white and black,
political resentment and people start to crack,
there's hate and opposition,
there's fumbling dialog,
yet you sit there and judge me
and you think it makes a difference
if you think I'm all alone you are foolishly wrong,
there's an entire army who blindly follow along,
and you happen to be one of them believe it or not,
even though you try not to be we are of the same plague
the other ways we're taught to fear,
don't even scratch the surface of the problem here,
I'm not blind, and I'm not scared,
so many crucial factors exist out there,
and we're but one, and they're bout two,
and how we come to terms will help us pull through
things cannot change too fast,
it took us this much time,
to reach our current platform and walk this fragile line,
if I thought I'd make a difference I'd kill myself today,
but so many are like me lost in the fray
you create your own reality,
and leave mine to me.
a febrile shocking violent smack
the children are hoping for a heart attack,
tonight the windows are watching,
the streets all conspire,
and the lamppost can't stop crying,
if I could fly high above the world,
would I see a bunch of living dots spell the world stupidity?,
or would I see hungry lover homicides,
loving brother suicides,
and olly olly oxenfrees,
who pickaside and hide
the world is scratching at my door,
my morning papers got the scores,
the human interest stories, and the obituary
cockroach naps and rattling traps,
how many devils can you fit upon a match head?,
caringosity killed the Kerouac cat,
sometimes truth is stranger than fiction
in my alley around the corner,
there's a wino with feathered shoulders,
and a spirit giving head for crack and he'll never want it back,
there's a little kid and his family eating crackers like thanksgiving
and a pack of wild desperados scornful of living
the worlds is scratching at my door . . .
cradle for a cat, Wolfe looks back,
how many angels can you fit upon a match?
I want to know why Hemingway cracked,
sometimes truth is stranger than fiction
life is the crummiest book I ever read,
there isn't a hook, just a lot of cheap shots,
pictures to shock and characters an amateur would never dream up.
the brown and orange sky holds its
breath
as the sun retreats to the distant horizon,
and our hearts palpitate anxiously as we soon will lay supine,
and wait for sleep to overcome us
and from somewhere in our black,
subconscious minds when we're asleep,
comes a haunting swelling mass of voices,
resonating, its screams of forgotten victims and the cries of innocence,
and the desperate plea for recognition and recompense
tiny voices, echoes of our heritage,
our long and sallow faces turn the other way,
tiny voices, harbored deep within
as we outwardly deny that they have something to say,
and if we don't confront them they will never go away
the billions of tiny pinhole embers fade into a morning sky
filled with poignant morose wonder,
waking a bear a cosmetic peace that verifies the turmoil
which we carry deep inside.
every time you shake someone's hand
and it feels like your best friend,
could it be that it's only superficiality?,
without regard to well-being, without an inkling of compromise,
handshakes are nothing but a subtle "fuck you",
contracts determine the best friendships
this is the way of the modern world, everyone's vying for patronage,
this is the way of the modern world, and something has gotta give
every time you shake someone's hand,
and you share neither color or creed,
you gotta overcome the obstacles of history,
there is restrained passion, mistrust, and bigotry
and these have created the new foundations of society,
there's no harmony just class and race
this is the way of the modern world,
everyone's fighting for dominance,
this is the way of the modern world,
and something has gotta give
now I believe in unity, and I am willing to compromise,
but I'm not gonna lie or sell my soul
every time you shake someone's hand,
it determines where you stand,
and if you won't uphold your side then it's better to
fend for yourself, and shun the handshake,
someone's gotta give.
I'm sorry about the sun,
how could I know that you'd burn?,
and I'm sorry about the moon,
how could I know that you'd disapproved,
I'll never make the same mistake,
the next time I create the universe I'll make sure we communicate at length
but until then . . . better off dead,
a smile on the lips and a hole in the head,
better off dead, yeah better than this,
better off dead, yeah better than this,
take it away cause there's nothing to miss
I'm sorry about the world,
how could I know you'd take it so bad?,
and I'll never make the same mistake,
if you're looking for a patsy why not try the entire human race?
just to play it safe.
Better off dead, yeah better off dead,
why don't you try pushing daisies instead
and I'll never make the same mistake,
the next time I create the universe I'll make sure we communicate,
just in case.
now here I go,
hope I don't break down,
I won't take anything, I don't need anything,
don't want to exist, I can't persist,
please stop before I do it again,
just talk about nothing, let's talk about nothing,
let's talk about no one, please talk about no one, someone, anyone
you and me have a disease,
you affect me, you infect me,
I'm afflicted, you're addicted,
you and me, you and me
I'm on the edge,
get against the wall,
I'm so distracted,
I love to strike you,
here's my confession,
you learned your lesson,
stop me before I do it again
you're clear - as a heavy lead curtain want to drill you - like an ocean,
we can work it out, I've been running out, now I'm running out
don't be mad about it baby,
you and me, you and me,
I want to tie you, crucify you,
kneel before you, revile your body,
you and me, we're made in heaven,
I want to take you, I want to break you,
supplicate you, are incurable,
I want to bathe you in holy water I want to kill you,
upon the alter, you and me, you and me.
Television (Mr.
Brett/Napolitano)
television, television, television,
television
oh yeah! I want to bask in your golden light,
submerge in electric waves,
I need my connection to the world outside
the world outside is buzzing like an angry wasp in summer,
the candidates are running, and soon the son of God is coming,
crackle mental convolutions tune in to the revolution,
whereby everyone's included so we'll never have to be alone
every atom of my body, blood and sinew, bone and fiber,
I can't distil you from my blood,
you're a hungry germ inside of me,
you're my lover, you're my heroine,
my conscience and my voice,
and I know that I have learned to let you in I
will lever have to be alone
I'd take after my mother but she's from a different generation,
I prefer my big brother he's so gentle and understanding,
and I learn what I can from him by the television light,
so that when I'm all alone I know everything's gonna be alright.
individuals run for cover,
for the multitudes of thoughtless clones have reached a critical mass,
individuals hide in fear, under cover,
sheltered by the wafer thin veil of intelligence
individuals, nowhere to be seen
Urbana is oozing like a bloated carcass,
with maggots cooking in the desert heat,
oozing, with progeny writhing and desperate
for input from someone more determined
congregating in invisible circles,
half apart and half apart,
all too aware of the insignificance,
pushing on with soul and heart
individuals don't pray for forgiveness,
when pinned up against the wall under siege of persecution,
individuals command exception,
and accept dichotomy,
maybe you can't choose anymore
procreation without gain or purpose,
languid wills and torped minds,
catapulted ever faster by the arrow of time.
Can see my teenage father standing
straight on a desolate corner,
In the shadow of tentacled towers by the red light of America,
I imagine how his mother felt when she heard that her husband was dying,
And that underground heroes of the tarmac shooting smack were blowing up worlds
And Damned out loud,
He, can you tell me how does it feel?
Yeah, tell me, can you imagine, for a second,
Doing anything that you don't have to?
Well that's what I'm accustomed to so hooray for me . . . and fuck you!
When I slept with stony faces on the riverbank,
My angel devil reveler shook me desperately in dying,
I don't exactly want to apologize for anything, and now
We're all mad and tangled in secret rooms with roman candles,
On an endless graveyard train
Yeah, tell me, can you imagine, for a second, doing
Anything just cause you want to?
Well, that's just what I do so hooray for me . . . and fuck you!
Yeah, I was dreaming through the "howzlife", yawning,
Car black, when she told me "mad and meaningless as ever . . .",
And a song came on my radio like a cemetery rhyme,
For a million crying corpses in their tragedy of respectable existence
Oh, yeah, I'm not respectable, and never sensible,
I've been incredible so damned irascible
And I like the things I do so hooray for me . . . and fuck you!
so, you're feeling unimportant,
cause you've got nothing to say,
and your life is just a ramble,
no one understands you anyway
well, I've got a piece of news, son,
that might make you change your mind,
your life is historically meaningful,
and spans a significant time
slumber will come soon,
and you are helping put it to sleep,
side by side we do our share faithfully
assuring that slumber will come soon
well, now do you feel a little better?,
lift up your head and walk away,
knowing we're all in this together,
for such a short time anyway
there is just no time to parade around sulking,
I would rather laugh than cry,
the rich, the poor, the strong, the weak,
we share this place together,
and we pitch in to help it die
I'm not good at giving morals,
and I don't fear the consequence,
if life makes you scared and bitter,
at least its not for very long.
if I'm a monster,
I am a willing one,
this roller coaster ride is an enticing one,
on the tip of a continuum flowing wavelike
through disorder carry me like a vessel to water
everything you see leaves a mark on your soul,
everything you feel leaves a mark on your soul,
everything you touch leaves a mark on your soul,
everything you make leaves a mark on your soul
if I can touch it,
I can destroy it,
if it's imaginable to some degree,
I can become it,
like a hungry turning vortex that just flickers to existence,
consuming bits and pieces until I'm finally extinguished
everyone you see leaves a mark on your soul,
everyone you bare leaves a mark on your soul,
everyone you touch leaves a mark on your soul,
everyone you love leaves a mark on your soul
everything you take leaves a mark on your soul,
everything you give leaves a mark on your soul,
and all the fear and loneliness that's impossible to control,
and every tear you cry leaves a mark on your soul.
automatons with business suits
clinging black boxes,
sequestering the blueprints of daily life
contented, free of care, they rejoice in morning ritual
as they file like drone ant colonies to their office in the sky
I don't ask questions, don't promote demonstrations,
don't look for new consensus, don't stray from constitution
if I pierce the complexity I won't find salvation
just the bald and over truth
of the evil and deception
there is an inner logic,
and we're taught to stay far from it
it is simple and elegant,
but it's cruel and antithetic
and there's no effort to reveal it
graduated mentors stroll in marbled brick porticos
in sagacious dialog they despise their average ways
displaying pomp and discipline, they mold their institution
where they practice exclusion on the masses every day
decorated warriors drill harmless kids on pavement
simulating tyranny under red alert
protecting the opulent and staging moral standard
they expect redemption of character and self-growth
(no equality, no opportunity,
no tolerance for the progressive alternative . . .)
here's a purpose, there's a goal,
there's a virtuos, and immoral,
there's a reason for all of this,
and I don't know what it is
I am one, and plural too,
I accept them but they exclude,
I could make sense of all of this,
but I don't know what it is
the seeds of inspiration never germinated in my mind,
the beacon of awakening is somewhere that I can't find, so
I don't know what it is
there's a beginning, and there's an end,
there's a climax, some would contend,
there's a way to signify this,
but I don't know what it is.
I can't believe it,
the way you look sometimes,
like a trampled flag on a city street,
oh yeah,
and I don't want it,
the things you're offering me,
symbolized bar code quick id,
oh yeah,
I'm a 21st century digital boy,
I don't know how to live (or read)
but I've got a lot of toys,
my daddy is lazy middle class intellectual,
my mammy's on valium,
she's so ineffectual,
ain't life a mystery?
I can't explain it,
the things they're saying to me,
going ya ya ya ya ya ya ya,
oh yeah,
I tried to tell you about no control,
but now I really don't know,
and then you told me how bad you had to suffer,
is that really all you have to offer?
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