By Tourettes
Screams
Wake the dead in my ghost town
watch em stagger to supermarkets feeding gapping chest wounds
Below us Rivers of oily black karma run through budest sewers
Every night I lose myself in forests of digital waste and denial
Did you know Sleep is time travel, think about it
I am space pilot hurtling through sunbeams at a million breaths a second
Nothing is ever what it is ever
Keep this game running on token gestures
The poor are wing clipped canneries thrown into nightmares
if they emerge black lungs sucking air
Then mass production begins in earnest
I Downloaded Mason snuff films and overdub a laugh track
Everything is hilarious with a little distance
when I woke up tomorrow it stunk of yesterdays leftover promise
I was not amused
I know people who voted for national and own cute pets
Your fooling no one!
I think my cell phone wants to kill me
Fact is solidified fiction
All the better to beat you into compliance
The headlights of a howling future hurtle towards me now
There is darkness on both sides of this road
I take the middle line
Accidental martyr
Waving a tattered life insurance policy
The TV grins and preaches with Nazi innocence
I understand completely and feel nothing
Only the broken and addicts have a word for control
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