Sunday, November 27, 2005
A beautiful rant by Mr. Taylor

What a skeletal wreck of man this is
Translucent flesh and feeble bones
The kind of temple where the whores and villains try to tempt the holistic tones
Running rampant with free thought to free form, in the free in the clear
And the matters at hand are shelled out like lint at a laundrymat to sift and focus
On the

We all have a little sin that needs venting
Virtues for the rending and laws and systems and stems that riff from the branches of office
Do you know what your post entails?
Do you serve a purpose? or purposely serve?
Wind down inside adivistic galore
The value of a summer spent and a winter earned
For the rest of us there is always sunday
The day of the week that reeks of rest but all we do is catch our breaths

So we can wade naked into the bloody pool
And place our hand on the big black book
To watch the knives zig zag between our aching fingers
A vacation is a countdown
T-minus your life and counting

Time to drag your tongue across the sugarcube and hope you get a taste

What the fuck is all this for? What the hells going on? Shut up!

I could go on and on, but let’s move on...shall we?

Say, you’re me and I’m you and they all watch the things we do
And like a smack of spite they threw me down the stairs
Haven’t felt like this in years

The great magnet of malicious magnanimous refuse
Let me go and plundge me into the dead spot again
That’s where you go when there’s no one else around
Its just you, and there was never anyone to begin with, now was there?

Sanctimonious pretentious dastardly bastards with there thumb on the pulse and a finger on the trigger...

Classified my ass, that’s a fucking secret and you know it.

Government is another way to like ice but no pick, a murder charge that wont stick
Its like a whole other world where you can smell the food but you cant touch the silverware...what luck

Fascism you can vote for...isn’t that sweet!

And we’re all gonna die some day, cause that’s the American way

And I’ve drunk too much and said too little
When your gaffer taped in the middle, say a prayer, say a phrase, get yourself together and...

See what’s happening...

Shut up! Fuck you, fuck you!

I’m sorry, I could go on and on...
But it’s time to move’re a wreck: an accident, forget the freak - you’re just nature
Keep the gun oiled and the temple clean, shit snort and blaspheme
Let the heads cool and the engine run

Because in then end everything we just everything we’ve done.