I walk the streets I see decayI run around in madness highIn rumbling rumors, terror dawnedA sickend collective mind — punished We dream of sweet apocalypseAnd dawn, sweet dawnOf new age, new waysA sunrise, a humanity Unwilling to live up to this worldIrresponsible for the life we haveGifted, not owned.Conquered — by fear A life […]
This world is in progressI sense a change in the worldI feel it in the subtle ripples of society.In the collected deposit and laundrytwittered voicesI sense it.there is punk. punk is not deadthere is art. Art is not deadThere is us. We are not deadAnd as long as we are notdead, there is still this hungerthe hunger for the […]
They write on Christmas and in church.
On weddings, gatherings, and meetings.
At your funeral – if you are lucky.