waste of time

i dont need every last one of you

i can fit all your worth into the capsule i take everyday to shut the fucking dogs up that are barking in my head

swallow your fucking tongue 

do whatever you have to do to shut the fuck up

you dont ever know what your talking about

and the sound of your voice is enough to make me drive nails in my ears

nothing is worth the effort and everything is a complete waste of time

the wound's never serious until the flys begin to swarm

its time to face the light and end the fucking charade

theres never gonna be anything happening in your life

nothings gonna break. your not gonna wake up with a new purpose for living

you might as well practice getting used to lying down

because i can hear them outside chipping rocks, moving earth, and digging your grave

face it, your bored, and your boring

its time to point the finger in the right direction

go see your parents and give them the beating they deserve for bringing us into this life

you are a bad person, and everyone hates you

im gonna hang you from your neck by a rope if its the last thing i can do

this world is in need of a purging and you will never do anyone any good

your a cancer on this city

nobody wants you around

so i'll just take you out quietly while everyone is sleeping

just a gentle stick in the neck and then let you fall off a bridge

into the water to float with the algae and fish

now youre feeding something

its the first time you've had a purpose in so long

it would almost make you feel good if you were alive

but this hasnt happened

you are still alive

you are still flapping your gums and coughing your sickness all over everything

sooner or later everyone ends up done with you

its just the way it goes for people like you

youre not to be trusted

cant befriend someone who you cant trust

so what does that leave you

it makes you lonely doesnt it

cant get youre shit together so you take it out on everyone else

sure, people are around when the beer is flowing, and the coke is on the mirror

yea, those are your friends

those people will be around when its all over with

this is your life that you have carved out for yourself

and you hate yourself for it

but you cant stop it now because you are too far in it

and it would be too embarrassing for you to turn around now

so you keep going

feeling like a lonely warrior

youre not a warrior

youre pathetic

youre a black sheep

youre the scarlet letter

you are the person in the room that everyone smiles at and is nice to, but really doesnt want to be around

people are just civil to you cause they dont want to be on your bad side

you are the bottom of the barrell

the little man who wishes that he could be big so that no one can make him feel small and weak

the napoleon complex in the flesh

you are a model for confusion

the poster child for self dillusion

and everyone hates you

because of who you are

you are a bad person

and everyone hates you

you are wrong on this

do not dictate to me

i cannot be moved and i will not be argued with

my passions have been run through with a fine tooth comb all by myself

and there is nothing you could find in it that i didnt

so dont attempt to tell me things like i dont know what im talking about

i wont be strong armed

i refuse to let your fear interupt my life and the things that i love

you live in your fear

i conquer mine

i wont apologize for being on the other side of the line

i wish you could come with me, but you refuse to let go

thats fine with me

this is a you problem

not a me problem

even though we are in this together

there is still a fine distinction between your shit and my shit

so dont try to guilt me by telling me you thought you could get support on this

i dont support idiocy and i dont have patience for foolishness

you cant reverse the topic on me and that frustrates you

you pull out all the stops too

you always told me i was better than you

and i humbly brushed it off

but now its clear

i am better than you

and you will not get anything past me

sit down and shut up

you are wrong on this

you feel the end in your chest

the end is comes on hard

and you can feel it in your chest

like someone just took all the air out of you

someone took your love and threw it right back at you

all those feelings you thought you never had

you saw it in other people 

and wondered what was wrong with you

you were so proud of yourself when you finally found it

buried beneath the mental illness and scars of childhood

it took a good year to unearth it all

and now its out, and raw, like a fresh nerve

but then the feeling pulls out of the air around you

you watch them walk away

the feeling tied tight around their waist

and the farther they go, the more it hurts

then it starts in your stomach

 and you cant curl up tight enough to make it stop

this is the story of all junkies

this is the line in the sand

it hurts too much to breathe in lonely air

i want to destroy the old social norms
i want to rebuild everything 
right down to the very perception of the idea itself
i want to demystify the preciousness of human life
i want to throw babies off cliffs
i want to breathe in smoke
and removing pieces of skin
i want to end family ties
i want everything to be uncomfortable and shitty
and i just want to stand in the middle of it all
and piss on the ground


i am so sick of everyone taking things out on each other
im tired of fools who dont deal with their problems
those that would rather run away 
than address the problem
those are the people that should be kept in cages
those are the ones who should be persecuted
the holocaust was misdirected


cancer is a microcosm of the human race
think about it


people feel shitty about themselves
so they deflect their shitty attitudes onto other people
and sometimes family can be cancerous
its a lot like your left arm
you need it, you like it, it functions
but if its cancerous its gotta come off


it hurts, you go through grief over it
you adapt and move on
i am removing the cancer from my life
and im never looking back

chalk roses on cracked pavement

a little girl draws roses in chalk outside my window

she doesnt know that the world is such an ugly place

i remember the fall from innocence

like a fall from 4 stories 

and smacking on the concrete

and its all pain and ache from then on

i see numb in everyones eyes

anything for a bargain

the truth is to tender to look at

so they all just ignore it and try to move on

living life as best as possible with their legs broken behind them

were only steps away from bleeding to death

somewhere an old man dies alone

and i am jealous of him

cause i wish it was me 

i wish it was me

i see fear in everyones eyes

so i dont look at peoples eyes anymore

you get used to the ache

sometimes take a poor mans vacation

and come back to the wreckage the next day

i lay down at night

and hope i dont wake up again

its a fantasy ive had since i was a child

id love to not wake up again

it could be a worse way to die

life is a waste

its written into the contract

its in the dna

life is a waste

sad art for cowards

writing is for cowards

and cowards we are

we put the pen to the paper

because we cant deal with real life

people like to think its deep and introspective

its ugly and sad

and thats the hard truth

don't puff up these fucking tortured idiots

you are just furthering their dysfunction

by giving it a name

and giving it meaning

we encourage people to express themselves

in juvenile ways

which is why everyone has a hard time growing up

put the puppets on display

wrap a collar on them that says "tortured artist"

and watch everyone gawk and frown

and put their hands to their hearts as if they understand

you don't fucking understand

you are nowhere near understanding

you don't ever even want to understand

cause to understand is to live it

its to go in deep and really feel what made that beautiful piece of art

its ugly, its real, and it leave scars

so while you sit in your coffee shop

on your laptop, drinking in the morning

admiring that piece of art

or that poem

know that the person who made it hates you

and made it to stand against you

but also know

that these pieces of art you are admiring

is a bi-product

thats all it is

waste

you are gawking at my waste

my shit

the bi-product of my depression

and sick, twisted self hatred

you analyze it and talk to your peers about it

all i see is a turd

and big brown piece of shit

and every one of you has your face so close to it

or your playing it on your headphones

really feeling it

really getting emotional to it

its still shit

its still a bi-product

its still something i threw up 

it came out of me cause it had to

cause my body rejected it

my mind rejected it

needed to get it out

and you love it

i am selling you my bi-products

next time just open up your hands

so i can puke right into them

i've got free time

i hate that you consider it beautiful

i hate that you consider it art

i hate that you feel an emotion when listening to my song

it wasn't made for you

it was made for me

and you are feeding off of me

like a goddamn leech

and you always want more

so when you want more

i give

i torture myself

i rip open my own chest and dig

all for art

that you can enjoy

cause i guess a smiling face is worth it

i guess this is what i have to do for a little understanding

cause i cant just come out and say it

i cant just deal with reality

no, i have to stir it up into weird frequencies and colors

and give it to you ever way but straight

make no mistake

it might be good music

it might be a nice painting

but its still only the work of some damaged individual 

who cant cope

theres nothing beautiful about it

its fucking sad

call it what it is

its fucking sad

shauny boy

stir up nostalgia

like dragging a stick through a puddle

and watching the sediment rise and fall

thats all we have left

you're gone

and you have been so for 5 years

and we still have an imprint of you

you were the one who got off lucky in all of this

you got to go out with a bang

and all of us will probably go out with a whimper

you got to stir the pot

and not have to deal with the way it settles

you didn't have to see it

you didn't have to feel it

your nerve endings died off

you didn't feel a thing

you were heavily medicated anyway

you were gone within the construct of a sentence

you were there for one word, and gone the next

and thats all it was

we were left to feel the vacuum pull at our bones that was left by your absence

to have to face each other with tears in our eyes

and see sides of each other we never wanted to see or show

and we still talk about it

the scars are still purple

and it still reduces us to tears

if you were here you would be yelling at us

calling us jerks and telling us to knock it the fuck off

but you're not

so we do what comes natural without you

i like to think you're somewhere laughing at us

and flipping us the bird

or humping an image of us all sad and lonely

being the total ass and hilarious dick that you were

maybe i'll see you again, i cant say for certain

and it kills me

forever doesnt exist

theres no such thing anymore as forever

and somebody else can do it better

when all that you hope for and all that you love

is all made of cardboard and isn't enough

nothing holds substance, its all an illusion

were planning our lives under one big delusion

theres nothing out there, it'll never feel right

when i lay my head down, im alone at night

go back to your houses, go dig your graves

because working and slavery are one in the same

you'll never reach the top with love in your heart

your fucked if you stop, and fucked if you start

we thicken our skin with the burdens on our backs

but emotional stability is something we will always lack

cause theres no such thing, were wired this way

to be miserable for any reason, given the right day

im tired of putting one foot in front of the other

and no man is kind enough to give to another

without expecting something back, what will you do for me

the one who lies the best can drain the most out of me

and im only here for you, and when im done throw me away

cause that is all there is too it, until my dying day

so you can turn the other cheek, think positive and hopeful

but i just think that you're a liar and the truth is hard to swallow

life isn't what you make, life is pointless and bleak

life is crawling on your knees for miles to try to get some sleep

and everything you put your heart into will always go away

and it'll hurt, and it'll sting until your old and gray

it doesn't get better, you're a bunch of fucking liars

don't sell me all your sympathies, your preaching to the choir

this is all that there is and its going down the drain

so put a bullet in that gun and point it right at my brain

put me out of my misery, im broken and lame

im a horse thats thrown a shoe, im a face without a name

i am every man who ever felt the weight shift on his back

cause im through with lying, the worlds about to crack

every man dies, and looks pathetic when he does it

the caskets just a courtesy, the worms will burrow through it

we all return to the earth, we all break down and rot

i hope my headstone doesn't say that i was something that im not

im no great man, no hero, nothing special in these veins

just a man full of sadness who cannot deal with the pain

so i write it all down, and give it pretty little rhythms 

to polish up my story, to fool you into something with them

oh my pathetic little words, watch a crippled man cry

i never had a happy ending, and i never said goodbye