whatever is stuck in my head accompanies the cat in my signature

Arms were drawn. In the morning, alarms were on.
Home after the war - our families and farms were gone
half-asleep, stirring, all night long during
Waking up in clothing that smells like urine.

Yolks over our shoulders, we’re soldiers and drifters.
Not looking for a handout, we do beg to differ.
Drums of despair, listen. Crumbs in our hair.
On the side of the road with our thumbs in the air.

Fugatives. Offensive. Convention demolishers.
Running with the bulls and unknowns and bone polishers.
Career misfits. Rotten apples and beer tickets.
Looking for work we smoke snipes and spear biscuits.

Scope and frame. Filled with both hope and blame.
Rope and chain. Cooking over an open flame.
Depressed clown, dressed down, heading for the next town.
It’s almost time for me to catch the west bound...


Ho-boys. Get 'em while the going's good.
Ho-boys. Making the record scratch...

the dick said to Willie
you’re in the clink
so save the pity party for the county shrink
I’m sure he’ll find some profound parallels to mine

you can’t blame me for my guilty face
it was a gift from my mother my father in place
of all the love they should have given
they just left me with this dirty DNA that makes you think I’m the one you want

This post was edited by Conri on Oct 27 2008 05:40pm

Oh my god, Becky, look at her butt
It is so big
She looks like one of those rap guys girlfriends
Who understands those rap guys
They only talk to her because she looks like a total prostitute, ok?
I mean her butt
It's just so big
I can't believe it's so round
It's just out there
I mean, it's gross
Look, she's just so black

All death metal, all the time.

Bangkok sun creeps out red faced
but without shame
It knits in fire upon the hills
the purity of your name

Other names are knitted too
but black the thread
They form a noose
rising slowly but steadily
A gallows for grown men
to hang their hearts.

oh shit shake that ass while movin like a gypsie
now drop it down and let me see your hips SWING

song from the club at the beginning of knocked up
fucking hilarious
stuck in my head

This post was edited by sexdrugspantera on Nov 7 2008 01:13am

God dammit.


I'm gonna post some more Ballydowse so I can purge that from my mind.

One hundred cigarette burns
like maps upon her back
Led home to Washington
by the strings of the attack
Look into her eyes
the crazy isn't there
It's in the embassies and palaces
filling every chair.

This northern land is ours
For us, judgement starts here
If indeed we fed the death squads,
our repentance should be dear.

coca cola, sometimes war

lol