they're already singing christmas songs...
it's not yet thanksgiving.

let the commercialism flow...

i've got my mind on things that have no meaning

i've got my eyes on you

well, there is always a reason

a reason to keep being 

the girl across the road

waiting for the traffic to stop

in a green wool coat

and swaying perfectly in the cold breeze

when she walks she keeps her head down

eyes on the road

and is gone

somewhere i don't know

there is nothing as disgusting as fake perfection

like bright plastic,

like frozen food

like that shit you hear on pop radio

i want something real,

strong and alive.

remember when life was worth living?

don't let if fade away,

there's still time left...

the cheese sandwich she had smelled strong and quite disgusting
who eats those kinds of things?



i had the inclination to leave...
but of course i stayed.


i always stay...

Melvin was very popular
Everyone wanted to be near him
They gathered in a huddle around him
He looked good, clean and sharp
Smiling blandly, with his eyes half closed
Dreaming
When they cut him open
They poked through his insides and probed
Curiously
Wondering what they'd find
Melvin didn't really mind
For one thing he was dead
And since it was either a biology lab table
or be made into bacon
it really didn't matter anyway.

turn down the lights, placate the drunk,

kill the telephone

i don't want to spit this one out 

and have you rape me later on 

now ladies and gentlemen

i used to be a notorious killer

and then i became the world's greatest dancer

always asking what the truth was

and never waiting for an answer 

now it's the clay inside this heart of stone

and the concrete in my head

i know there's a fine line 'tween the living and the dead

and i used to go to slasher films

and leave feeling pretty free

it's really quite cathartic 

to see yourself up on the screen

and i've been driving the nails

firmly in your tree

you've been talking to your father 

on behalf of me

nothing at these checkpoints

i care to defend 

why do i raise the hammer up

and drive the nails again?

now in the graveyard of my secrets

there's a hope buried beneath 

all this talk of peace and righteousness 

has got me weary beyond belief 

and there's an unwanted mistress

in my bed late at night

she says "i know you're a criminal,

you've been on death row all your life."

and i've been driving the nails

firmly in your tree 

you've been talking to your father

on behalf of me

nothing at these checkpoints

i care to defend

why do i raise the hammer up

and drive the nails again?

-bill mallonee 

something in my head stirring,
certain in uncertainty
hopeless dreaming
neverending light


there isn't really anything to say,

say something anyway