Tag: art

Christ

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I’m thinking on it
I’m tripping on it
I’m tricking on it
Thinking on it
Tripping on it
Tricking on it

Smaller, smaller
Altar, altar

Altar, before the altar, our design to make us smaller, smaller
Built the state for the “author”, to build him taller
To Crush

Christ,
Made from stick and brim we made you for order, order
You’re nailed to a cross father, your honour, my proper
Unfit for slaughter

Christ,
I could have kept on winning, like a sinner to the minute just
Right
Should I have left it thinning? Or hit it ’till it’s missing?
Was I a slave to the trimmed limit or an edge for the system a precautionary allegiance are you secure in your shiftings what are
MINE

Christ,
What do you want from me?
Another song to sing?
Another wrong to bring in?
Christ
No holds barred I see
Scathing me relentlessly
Gunnin’ for a change to take me
Out

Mmph,
Think, trip, trick you’re a good liar but by far not the best
Let it be known, there is nothing else, I only miss the dead

Christ,
I left it sifting, it was poison in the rifting’s
Knife
Did I offer my submission? Had I bowed to the religion?
A mere murder of the mimic are you sound in your exhibit and your delusion of a victim have you tamed your resistance is your heresy dependent on the birth of sacreligion scribing the inscription from the blood of your subjacents the marks and who have made him are deplorably heathen
Mmph

Christ,
What do you want from me?
Another song to sing?
Another wrong to bring in?
Christ
No holds barred I see
Scathing me relentlessly
Gunnin’ for a change to take me
Out

A mans strength is like a bullet – it’s all down to the number of them
But isolation does not ice-cement abuse
Utilisation of the minimisation is your own way out

And we can keep god dead and we can be godless
We will feel heaven sent and free we will be lawless
We will never again belong to a man – our emancipation is our solace

Sinking Feeling

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I hate my room
But I never leave it
I can’t hang up the flag but I decorate the walls with pictures of my friends because I can see the pride in them

I hate the town
My name has never escaped it
The walls that tell strangers I’m a faggot
I’ll never know who wrote it, or who knows it

Keep my head down
By, I, feeling of displacement
All in all, headlights on a rabbit
I can never move, I can never get out of it

It’s in my head now
Everything is rearranged around it
It’s tree sap sticky and elastic
It’s a virus – it’s a carrier, it’s a transit

It’s associated with my friends now
Likely the ones who wrote it
A carefully shoved knife in the back
From the people I trusted with it

I wonder who profited from it
Do they still get a surge each time I think about it
Are they happy about it

It’s a sinking feeling
Sinking back in
To the mud I had scraped clean
And the blood I had grated unseen
Since I was thirteen

A Lot To Be Embarrassed About

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Recently,
I’ve been leaving myself out
Tuned up switch-key, refuse to figure it out
I could say I’ve been hitting things well
But there’s a place I go
Where I can think solo
(And) On the brightest sunny day I’m a raincloud hanging low

I’ve got plans,
Got the Jones and got the poison
But think I’m gone mad, my muscles moisten
Hate visioning the faces
I don’t think they know
That I’m afraid of the show
I’ll drink to compensate it out until they ask me to go home

Think I’d rather sit in,
Better sit this one out
Avoid a social situation I’ve got a lot to be embarrassed about

Not too sure I’m wanted around,
And got enough to fester that doubt
So tell my friends I don’t mean to pull out,
My name’s on the table and I’ve got a lot to be embarrassed about

Hard by sleep,
Cause it’s wicked when I’m under
I wish I couldn’t remember
The discomfort pinches my spine
Can numb the ticks
With the harder shit
But don’t want to walk on rocks from the crumbling foundation

Slave to it,
Blue eyed fall guy,
I really liked when you put your hand on my thigh
Nothing there to like about me
A big scar like a hole in my cheek
When I laugh with my big teeth
No please! Don’t check up on me, let me slip out and leave

Think I’d rather sit in,
Better sit this one out
Avoid a social situation I’ve got a lot to be embarrassed about

Not too sure I’m wanted around,
And got enough to fester that doubt
So tell my friends I don’t mean to pull out,
My name’s on the table and I’ve got a lot to be embarrassed about

Now I’m not alone, no
I’ve got texts on my phone
Must be feeling sort of proud,
And I’ve got a lot to be embarrassed about

So tell my friends I don’t mean to pull out
My name’s on the table and I’ve got a lot to be embarrassed about

Worthless

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I’m not worthless,
just worth less, than you
It’s something you never failed to remind
And you have gentle eyes
But I know a truth dressed as a lie is quiet but cannot hide

After is too late for you to realise, that you were lucky to have me
Too late to rub up chemistry
Like I’d wait at the gate
For your smile to find me

Did you think you could look at me like that?
Did you think you could ruin all I had
I – I – I don’t feel so bad

You’ve still got it out for me
You search for reasons to hurt on me
Like a ghost, stalking me
Preying

No I know I know I’m not worthless
Just worth less than you
You and him and your ex,
You told me so
It’s something you never failed to remind
And yeah you have gentle eyes
But I know I know a truth dressed as a lie is quiet but cannot hide

Cut me off from the rest of the world so that when you stepped out place
I wouldn’t notice
Like a tie around my eyes
But you couldn’t keep your loyalty in one place
And so you’d accuse me of the same

Did you think you could look at me like that?
Did you think you could ruin all I had
I, I, I don’t feel so bad

You’ve still got it out for me
You search for reasons to hurt on me
Like a ghost, stalking me
Preying

I’m not worthless
I’m just worth less
Among the shadows in the background
Where I can be overlooked without sympathy
Not worthless
Just worth less

Tainted

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Carry the weight of the world on my shoulders
Carry the weight of the whole world on my shoulders,
Because I refuse to let any of it go
Find it hard to let things go

We were both so dedicated
To keep what we had from fading
Dedicated to the loving memory
But our love is tainted

Like a painting
Of sun and song we had created
Wouldn’t waste it,
Our illustration
But our love is tainted

Our hands are made for holding
Our hands are made for holding, not building
Hands too dirty to clean the canvas

But we were both so dedicated
To keep what we had from fading
Dedicated to the loving memory
Our love is tainted

Like a painting
Of sun and song we had created
Wouldn’t waste it,
Our illustration
But our love is tainted

But dedicated,
We were so dedicated
To keep the hearts from breaking
Keeping things in their places
Afraid of changes
So dedicated
But our love is tainted

The road we’re on is so unstable,
Our love is tainted
This road’s unstable,
Our love is tainted
Keep the hearts from breaking,
Never waste it, our creation,
Is tainted
Wish I could change it,
Our love is tainted

The Feed

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Yeah my tracks are still fucking bitter
Epiphany being such a hard hitter
I had my tongue on the lips of that bullshitter
More over I slopped up the residue of the lies he left behind
Move over I gained the right to leave the questions unsigned

Oh I smoothed over every single edge and then wounded myself up from all the kicks and scratches, I, was far from selfish
And to think this brute had a fix on me like a chunk of drain hair that clogged up in my throat
To think he kept his foot down on me underwater so I couldn’t float
Like he was captain of the boat,
Guider of the road

Gave in and bitched out
Gave up the moon in my blackout,
I stuck around, yeah, I stuck around
I wiped his hands clean when he smeared up on my own fruit,
Collected his wishes and wore em like armbands in a pool of false truths
Held onto his hypocrisy and became too confused to reboot

Yeah my tracks are still fucking bitter
Epiphany being such a hard hitter
I had my tongue on the lips of that bullshitter
More over I slopped up the residue of the lies he left behind
Move over I gained the right to leave the questions unsigned

Oh I rounded up all his inner conflicts like rogue guns and it took me too long to realise I was the target range
And to think I had this boar on a throne like a clapped fool using a guillotine as a pillow
To think I played right into his arms
Like I was a pig on his farm,
Something to harm

Gave in and bitched out
Gave up the moon in my blackout,
I stuck around, yeah, I stuck around
I wiped his hands clean when he smeared up on my own fruit,
Collected his wishes and wore em like armbands in a pool of false truths
Held onto his hypocrisy and became too confused to reboot
He wrecked on
My dignity when he questioned my integrity
By reassuring his barbarity
It was my own reason burning out

Yeah my tracks are still fucking bitter
Empathy being such a hard hitter
I held my tongue on the grips of that bullshitter
More over I slopped up the residue of the lies he left behind
Move over I gained the right to leave the questions unsigned

 

Heart

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I found my soul within the burnt pages of an old book, or maybe it was while I slept

I realised my heart was never missing and kept in the protecting hands of my sister as I cried on the bathroom floor and missed her

I’ll find my mind

Where it was lost in the dogfights

Flashbacks to late nights

And purple skies

Where river meets fire

Sweet Tralee

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The soil’s as fresh as honey
The finches choir in the trees
Where the flowers grow
Oh the fuchsia that spring in Tralee

They buried a man with his dog
The son sang the widow a song
They’re crying for peace,
In fields of red and green
Oh, what happened in sweet Tralee?

The Irish still drink in Tralee
Their dogs all chained to the trees
There’s a cold in the breeze,
And the hounds they will freeze
Because the men want a drink in Tralee

The children are out grabbing thorns
They’d be safe to their mothers they swore
But they’re watching their das,
And it’s sure they will catch
The curse of the thirst those men bore

Their nails are soil-free
But the hands that serve us aren’t clean
The oaths are all fake,
It’s the money they take,
Agus na Gaeilge, abash by the sea

Life’s Greatest Paradox

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I feel like I’m granted only a set amount of time with people, anyone, in my life

And it’s not about choice

Grow close to someone just to have an unmountable wall wedged between us

All support is then temporary

And all love is then just heartbreak waiting to be felt

Life births us and from then we have to die, and so everything we make too, under life’s ruling, is also finite

It is a cruel lesson, awaiting the inevitable end to everything, the by-product being that the little time we are allocated is spent with worry and trying to disengage so the scissors won’t hurt as much as possible

If I could I would keep them, but I cant, and I have tried

We have only ourselves forever, which is torturous in itself because time away from me is what I need. But he is just as fast as I am, just as strong and he knows all my hiding spots

But it’s there where life is limited

Only in death can we part from ourselves, soul from mind, mind from body, body from heart, but to join death we must escalate life’s ageing system and end everything we have made

Life’s Greatest Paradox