Death Star

("That's not a moon, it's a space station.")

This moon's been seen her radiant face.
It might be the location of the empire base.
Approaching should be okay,
after the meteor field of the day to day.

But kid, she eats planets
in less than 12 parsecs.
And inside of her electric heart,
is a fleet of enemy starships.

A tractor beam to lure you in.
A million trenches beneath her skin,
her mouth a cannon of lust
to turn star systems into star dust.

But kid, she eats planets
in less than 12 parsecs.
And inside of her electric heart,
is a fleet of enemy starships.

There's a throne room inside of her head,
where the empress is worshipped, her ego is fed.
For those who refuse to submit,
there's a compactor where good men are ground into bread.

But she's more beautiful than any of your moons,
electric blue to deserts dune,
That hum that lures you is the sound of her heart
fighting it's way out to tear you apart.

But kid, she eats planets
in less than 12 parsecs.
And inside of her electric heart,
is a fleet of enemy starships.

I've got a bad feeling about this.

Hymnal: Credo

This not my credo
It's a battle cry, a rally call.
In the day of phones and facebook,
why am I on this stage alone?
Everybody wants to be
left alone here in the valley
Showing up occasionally with their capos and their spit
to play another prom-night hit.

So why study study study,
or keep it clean clean clean?
When we could bloody bloody bloody
up this agoraphobic scene.

Because nothing gets changed
if the rules stay the same
And I know I'm to blame,
for not breaking these chains.

But I'm just one man
and it doesn't matter how much of one.
Six feet four at the gates of hell
and twenty years of being held,
then splitting in bleakness' eye.
Before that monster raised it's fist,
blackening mine.
Turned more great kids
into apathetic young minds.

I hope that this reaches you where you sit,
and you think I sounded like shit.
You tell someone close that you could do better
Do it
Do it
For God's sake do it!

Destroyer.

"We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion."

We are the killers of decadence
destroyers of stars.
From times long ago,
to galaxies far.
The same old things,
lords and kings.
Everything that builds itself up,
we'll bring it down,
WE'LL TEAR OFF IT'S CROWN!

Fifty Three:Five

I loved you to death and that's where it brought me.
To hang for every moment you've turned your back.
This is what I want. This is what love wants.
This is love.
And I'll wait for you forever,
it's my love, not these nails that hold my arms open.
It's my love, not these wounds that tear me apart.
I love you to death and that's where it brings me.
I deserve gold, but will wear thorns with joy.
For the day will come, when you will rejoice.
Rejoice sons, daughters,
I loved you to death.

Plastic Christmas Trees.

As tires grip the shoulder,
and engine hum comes to a stop.
The red and blue in rear-view mirror,
A good man dressed up like a cop.

Son, do you know how fast you drove,
when your car sped past my gun.
I'm certain it was far too fast.

The fat man in the stretched-out car
just waved and smiled
around his cigar.
as he drove past the scene,
seventy-five on county BB.

Fifty-thousand dollar donation
just three months ago.
Do you think the department forgot?
He's paid his due, we let it go.

Son, I'm going to let you off with this,
a warning to slow the hell down.
But look out, the cruiser's a 2010.

Karl might have been wrong
about how to run his country.
But he sure knew how things work
in Outagamie county.

A Way of Life.

If Superman were real,
I'd hate his guts of steel.
Saving cats in trees,
our wealth and liberties.
While kids are sold
across the seas
to pay for their parents
next meal.

I'm looking forward
I'm looking forward
to ending this talk
about changing the world.
And changing my heart,
instead.

Backbroken.

Every breath you take
every band you make,
every record you break,
I hate.
You kill everything our
heroes create.

Fire and Ice

Fire and Ice
Desire and vice.
Half of Robert Frost was right -
the world will end in ice.
Extremes kissed,
in heroic tryst.
Beneath a billion candles' light.
Fire and Ice
Apathy
and avarice
The language of passion's tongue
now come undone
(Fire and Ice,
the language died).

When will us gods learn
that greed consumes and always burns
leaving only ash and stone
to freeze alone.

Fire and Ice,
but wouldn't it be nice,
if we could end this world


in light?

The Heroin Joke.

If all the world's a stage,
then love is just a game.
The boys and girls
can't help but play.

Once upon a time, I fell.
But I'll never ever throw myself.
I'm putting the board back in the box
and the box back on the shelf.
Because every little hole is hell.

Flesh and bone
might keep you warm,
but they'll keep you in that bed.
When you could be rioting downtown,
almost dead
and never feeling more alive.

Every diamond I've known.
Turned out to be gravel shone.
I'd rather my hand remain alone,
than to wear a ring made of such
deceptive stone.

About face.

My heart yearns, but never learns.
I love you, lord.

The Hardcore Kids Club

H-X-C H-X-C
Hatespeech or S-X-E
Rebellion begets conformity.
Athiests and Straightedge kids
tell us all what you believe.
I've heard you all quote Minor Threat
and cover that straight-edge song.
My money's on they hate it.
Punk rock - Ur doing it wrong.

The end of decades of getting pissed,
is unwritten laws and exclusive cliques?
Volcom Stone hats and Krew Skinny jeans.
You're all the same, but H-X-C!
Keep telling me how you don't believe,
what I believe is worth this scene.
Well
Your scene is shit,
we'll burn it down.
We'll bring it
down
beneath the ground,
and choke it
where you've stroked it.
We'll cut it
where you've kissed it.

You blame God for the day to day,
in the most unoriginal way.
You're helplessly in love,
with your ability to hate.
So more hardcore points for the vinyls
and the girls you take home to,
further deprived from the love
nobody ever gave to you.
Well there exists a love that's true,
Helplessly in love with you.

But to the cliques and the scene
and the meaningless chants,
to the white tees, fifty-nine fifties.
The popularity contests dance.
This lack of thought,
we're calling it out:

We love the kids,
but hate this shit.

The Heart of the Problem

Throughout the body moves phlegm and spit,
and out of the mouth, pourreth out vomit.
What's been accelerated through discolored veins
by a beating heart sustaining them stained.

Break the ribs and chew it out,
it's gone on for far too long.
No longer pounding and beating it's drum
now quivering inside religious curriculum
this insect's shell, this inward hell.
Remove it with claws and teeth,
remove it.

Without room to turn outside
I turn inside to cower and hide,
from the hollowness of other life,
the unholy wandering circular strife.

Break these walls and set it free,
oh God, set me free eternally.
Free me to love
you first than me,
but before me the rest of humanity.
I'd Love you if I had room,
but my love for myself fills my body,
this tomb.
Remove it with claws and teeth,
remove it.
Forgive me
Remove it,
remove me.

And in grade school you were the best friend
then we learn words and our social begins,
so you crawl inside a cocoon
and comes out in parties and Sunday school rooms.
When I got old enough to tell,
it was all a joke, they scared me with hell.
And Your love has always been here.
Perfect love will drive out fear.

The heart of the problem is my love for me
and how I use you to bring it all peace.
The fear, the guilt, the moths, the rust,
the provisions we grow into turning to trust.
This blood that's flowing through me
being forced from a heart that's diseased.
Remove it.
Remove me.
I'm yours
eternally.
I'm done.

Cobra

Your patriots
are full of it.
Martyrs for a cause,
that nobody believes.

If GI Joe,
were a true hero
his name would just
be Joe,
No,
he wouldn't be dressed
in red or green.
So lets take off our
fatigues,
and go.

Star Destroyer pt. 1

1. Starshit Enterprise

They made a show for you,
because the movies weren't
good enough.
They have to keep making
new ones.
Your hero is a joke
with no abilitiesexcept comedic writing,
and he killed his wife.
A jedi wouldn't waste his
time on that nobody.
The milennium falcon
outrunning
outgunning
your piece of shit.

2. Midichlorians

I was behind you in line
for the academy.
I heard them tell you,
that you were too strong.
They weren't going to train
you.
I knew what they knew.
The anger you displayed,
proved everything they told you.
And you said you were legend.
The greatest knight to walk
the moons.
I agreed because, I knew
that you
had the potential to
make it true.
But you had to go back,
you had to turn back.
Though your midichlorians were off the chart
they are no match for my jedi heart.
Though your potential may be off the chart,
its never a match for honest heart.

3. XOrdering a Blue Milk at the CantinaX

(My friend doesn't like you...I don't like you either)

Your friend doesn't like me,
and I don't like your friend.
You are both poison to society
means to our planet's ends.

So step back
because I'm clean
I'm thinking clear
my mind is straight,
my prowess focused.
Without your voice,
you might have not thought
to do me harm.
But you took a drink
of pollution
and now you'll lose your arm.

4. Yes on No Confidence

Vote yes,
our regents evil.
He resembles the oppressor
and he'll bury us with
an iron fist.
A death star awaits.
Surrender liberty,
for protection.
In what day and age,
has the galactic senate
abandoned its reason?
And you can have me hauled away
but not before I say,
this will be the end of freedom.
The beginning for the weak
to rule over patriots.
Am I to bear the rebel's cross?
Is hope lost?
Or does the force align,
to bring us hope in evil times?
A young boy in the desert sun,
could he be the one?

5. Tusken Pyre (An Exercise in Jedi Bloodlust)

instrumental

(Men of sand, to sand, return)

6. Who's on the Dark Side Now?

I didn't kill your father son,
and I could never kill you.
You never knew your father,
you never knew the truth.
Everything you've learned about him
was a filthy fucking lie.
There's more than good and evil,
your father never died.
Kenobi's told you he wad dead,
so that you wouldn't hear -
That all men are the same inside
whatever masks they wear.
Some carry honesty,
others bear deceit.
Your righteous friends
will twist your head,
until men are no longer men
but beasts.
Everybody born with the spark
of life is a great fire.
Kenobi and I we used to burn
the landscape with our pyre.
Now he'll tell you, we're the flames,
and the jedi are the needed water.
But what good alive could ever keep
a son from his hurting father?
Luke, I am your father.
Who's on the dark side now?

7. Trilogies

8. My Sad Devotion to that Ancient Religion.

(...I find your lack of faith disturbing)

And though, I know.
You think it holds us back.
The data tapes are lost for good,
we never even saw the pod.
You blame my devotion to an ancient
way.
Saying that it doesn't work today,
And what was lost in outer space,
can not be found.
But as I close my hands to pray,
your choking off the tears
from another day.
Your sadness is shutting
shutting off your airway.

Your focused on the data,
you've forgotten why we're here.
We're more than conquerors,
you've forgotten why we're here.
With a well-times blow, we'll rule,
without our emperor's approval.
We hunt down the foxes in our gardens
and our moons.
The rebels and the ewoks
and the politicians too.
This ancient religion,
is the reason we're alive.
Your lack of faith got us here
the force to save our lives.
(And even though my sad devotion to this ancient religion has failed to conjure up the stolen data tapes.)
It's failed to conjure
thoughts of suicide,
broken hearts,
wasted youth,
and empty lives!
wasted

The full, uneducated stomach

College education
makes me laugh.

You are a sheep,
but not a sheep
for good.
So drop out,
pull the collar off.

Or you'll be run
like a greyhound,
after the rabbit
constructed from
wood and fabric.
The day you can
no longer run.
You'll die alone
in a large home.
But having never
learned a thing.

So throw one back
and smoke one up,
and count the many
ones that will never
add up
to anything more
than one.
Or didn't they tell you
to add like this.
That you're alive
because you care,
what so many think.
so who's buying tonight's
drinks?
Money from
mom and dad
who sent you here.
You left suburbia
to come here.
Turn into replications
of your parents,
and your friends.
Or what you call
your friends.
Who would stay with
you to the end.
But they hate you,
and they're fake.
You'll find this out
someday.
They'll leave you
when you need them
most,
but it's not their fault
they just never
learned.

So greyhound,
keep running
because this track never gets shorter.
And that rabbit never stops,
someday, you might get luckier
and catch that motherfucker.
Wooden bones
and cotton steak,
beneath your polished teeth
it breaks.
Choke down your prey
oh predator.
You've earned it,
so learn it.

Overwhelming Catechism

It's as if Earth itself,
proceeded marriage to the Sun.
The bride moving steady circles,
the groom stayed where he begun.

We dance in such a pattern
Frictions familiar to our orbit
But what was once a forest fire,
now feels like a cigarette.

Pleading with it's lover
to stay where it was fixed
the sun had never thought
the spheres purpose to conflict.

Our spirals, circles traded place
for jagged crooked lines.
What was once a steady pace,
became a revolution time.

What the sun called unity (it's righteous core)
Assumed a dogma to implore
The existence of distance between the two,
the space assumed as Hatred for.

Complacency is not unity!
Dissent is not division!

Everybody's found somebody else.

Everybody's found somebody else.
Another picture on their parents shelves.
Hardly ever takes em time,
cut the cord and step in line.
Everybody's found somebody else.

Everybody's found somebody else.
So babe, let's get a car an income and a house.
The minister is booked for life.
the "poor man" never sees his wife,
but like everyone, he's found somebody else.

Everybody's found somebody else.
Everybody else, except myself.
They say it's six billion,
I think it's six billion and one.
Everybody's found somebody else.

Everybody's found somebody else.
Say they're finished sleepin by themselves.
"you didn't," she says. "I did." He says,
"I'm leaving with the kids," she says.
Looks like her someone's found somebody else.

:D

My voice through every heart

Cold forceps move between warm folds.
Masked men telling dirty jokes.
The procedures painless she's been told.
Performed thousands of times before.

And as the demon's head emerged.
Pale and slick, eyelids converged,
an army of cells in blood submerge,
their stainless steel, machine room dirge.

When she opened her eyes, her mothers surprise,
was shot out, blown up in the hallways noise.
Misinterpreted as cries of joy,
from the ears of a doctor's little boy.

Her mouth opened up and the suckling closed,
being replaced by an ascension of notes
bass baritone tenor alto soprano,
erupted from the creatures now quivering throat.

Fingers undeveloped beginning to shake,
and light carrouseling, luminosity stained.
The voices increasing in volume and range,
ascending and descending chorded and paged.

Through stethoscopes magnified harmonies tightened,
the doctors and young mother now on their knees,
adoration and praise, no longer frightened.
Worshiped convictions, convictions now seen.

The cherubim Opera receeding to coos.
the motionless daughter was dragged from the room
toward the door, where under her skin she moved.
rapid advancements in medicine to pursue.

Nervous system the size of a goldfish eye.
Saw the destruction in cellular composed design
and put together the proteins, the adhesion the dye.
The cancerous would eat and surely not die.

The chemical glowed in the test tube she held,
forcing the drug down her flaccid neck.
Swallowing the last chance to connect and save.
Thousands of man's society blessed.

And as the ex-mother climbed down from the bed,
one of the masks noticed a lump that was set
above where it should be, in masses of cells.
But it was probably nothing, so nothing he said.

Suburban Religion

from venice to chichen itza
you entertain us
look at us asleep in your footprint
(and here is a toe
and a heel
the vibrance and life
of the dirt)
turned around
It glowed so bright but wouldn't
shine outward
it stole the gods from sanskrit
india's peace
it cut them up and boiled them into soup
healed up
the wound from where beliefs were torn
reopened. Bled.
scalpels constructed with a westerner's fortune
chopra's diamonds.
diminished a people so marginalized.
ashes to dust.
these killers of god are growing
taking what little is left,
a bigger existence,
hatred is easily marketed
you don't ask questions, you don't answer them.
Sheep shearing sheep,
the wool piled in banks, cascading.
turned around
from vegas to paris
we like to entertain ourselves.

Falling Leaves

I'm sure it comes as no surprise,
someone would write to you.
It's definitely controversial,
and just as much taboo.
But I love you.

I heard you when you sang "forgive me"
or when you scared the crowds in Illinois,
by proclaiming what everybody there had had in mind.
But you sang those ancient songs, with such
conviction.
I could have sworn you told the truth.

As hard as you said relating was,
friend, you were there.
to share.
but time is full of new,
those who think they can escape
need only look at you.
To see the truth.

If it's discretion that you seek,
to understand hypocrisy.
I'm afraid I can't help you.
I don't see too much of me.
As I faintly disappear,
between the sins, the love and fear.

You can say I'm a shit talker.
I would probably agree.
But I've never sang those hymns off key
dishonestly.
I'm on an airplane headed south,
with a guitar and a running mouth.
I don't really listen,
except when I can tell, right then,
that I'll benefit from it.

I've never felt like I'm losing a friend,
whose not even dead.
But the longer I lay here,
the weaker I feel.
I know I can't stop what time has planned.
the way we progress,
or misunderstand.
But, if you want,
I'm here to talk,
or maybe start a band.

MCMLXXXIX

Moving
Closer
Masks
Longing
X
X
X
I ((((don't))))
eXist.

Every Bird for Himself.

Look at all this food,
oh boy don't it look good.
A silent bite of bread to take
my mind off of this long flight.
And seconds from the feast,
I hear their cavalry arrive.
A thunderous army of black feathers
The dark cloud begins its dive.
But here's my own batallion.
The gulls from distant shore.
Swoop down for my defense
But they'e never looked that way before.
Eyes green,
fixed.
On what there is so little.
How can we share.
Not half a loaf of bread,
we're thousands of beaks
who need to eat.
Not enough is there.
And as the black clouds struck the white,
I heard the same cawing, clawing fight.
Nature's heart exposed in war,
my comrades fierce,
the blood the gore.
Spiling on the pavement, and puddling beneath
the bread.
The white and black are now met with
robin's red and the jay's blue.
The sky, the sidewalk are equally pallettes of
a violent incarnated hue.
I make a move but see his eyes.
a crow with purple chest,
his beak, his teeth, his build his size.
Am I to risk my life, my death.
for this tiny piece of bread.
It looks so good and such a ruse,
maybe that purple is a bruise.
And the light is playing tricks
on my laterally faced eyes.
But to my surprise he claimed the bread
and I felt claws press into my head.
I'm looking to the side
the pavement lays beside.
My bleeding feathered body.
My selfish raptors death.

Indendence suspends it.

As an unimportant fly,
dipped down from the sky.
And it made it's new place,
just above my knee
(just beneath my thigh).
My primary thought
concerned an expeditive swat.
My inconveniences held a mile high
above this pests fragile life.
But not even a square inch,
of my vacant skin.
Before used for nothing,
but now it was a home to him.
Who am I, then, to believe
my shallow comfort more importantly.
Than the air and the spirit
of a single breath,
no tragedy in this minuscule death.

Brother sister, forever may we be.
Open to even the smallest of pleas.
From a bird or a fly,
or the people we see.
Lest we deny the glory and light,
of living in celebration of life.
For if every tongue was created to sing,
and even flies have tongues (I think).
If placing my own pique a grave above,
another's voice created to love.
It must mean there's something wrong
with everything we've learned.
That maybe we aren't all where we deserve
(and we have, we haven't earned).
But there's people on the streets,
who live much longer than a fly.
And many swatted by,
our grotesque new way of life.
Exoskeletons collide
in the gutters where they die.
And something is wrong.
Something is terribly
terribly
terribly wrong.

The Solution.

The fear, terror, hatred.
That sang us to sleep,
as beneath our bedroom windows,
sirens ring out on the streets.
These parodies of wars, that are knocking at our doors
or teaching us to sing a song, a lullaby,
That keeps us painfully asleep.
Wake up oh, sleeper and rise from the dead.
Could we die and be less dead?
Can our comfort and softened flesh,
once again be beaten fresh.
And our clothing, hair and nails,
be torn, burnt and broken
beneath the glory, while we take sail.
On borrowed wings, on stolen time.
beneath our refusing soliloquy.
Let our dissonance define us, and our arms in defiance crossed.
Between the gears of what we've known, let us be tossed.
Lest we forget that it created the void,
that fills our hearts with greed.
Lest we forget this machine that was built,
was built to create a perpetual need.
Our hearts are stronger,
our minds are wiser
our bodies, now beaten to strength.
What else is there to give,
what other reasons, now to live.
Than to be changed to insurrection,
to aid passion's resurrection.
Beneath a sky lit,
by satellites, cities and patriot.
But the city will shine
with fire and light,
while we dance in our chains,
in shackles, delight.
Let us be made acquainted with the cold cement,
of alleys and jail cells, and tenements.
Let our days be made battle
until the nights that we see.
The end of this stolen, controlling
grasp on humanity.
Let us give our four seasons, our life and death.
To seeing this tyranny end.
To sleep without song and light.
To see this lullaby die,
and to awaken a century's death.

The Biz.

Daughter how fast you,
my daughter how fast have you.
Picked up yourself by your own strings.
And given yourself to the loud things.
The voices that tell you they love,
when you listen to it long enough.
And turns you over to the statues outside,
that violate your body, your heart, your insides.
If this voice whispers louder than wind.
To tell you that love is one more step again.
But such misery,
waves louder than the sea.
And the voice that calmed,
the blood-crusted palms.
Whispered inaudible peace.
If anger and hatred may turn back to passion.
And justice replace, this fixation on fashion.
It seems like breaking the skin, and then reaching in.
But the humblest seed breaks through the proud mountain.
And if you still remember the face,
and the mouth that whispered peace,
is now whispering grace.
It will come down to shower
with the scent of a flower.
And wipe these years of rust off your face.

Kingdom Divided

A gasoline revolution,
as it moves and flows,
the flower's breath.
A cloud that sits on thunder's
throne.
The first born son of every one,
erased by the stature
of monolith glass.
Gazing and measuring stones
that surround the well.
The hands, elbows deep in the wake,
silently being erased by the swell.

Still, it's depth exceeds...it blisters and it bleeds.
It's arteries connected to the bottom of
the sea.

Snow, the arms of trees
dressed in white.
Barely enough wooden space,
for a single new life in a crow
to raise flight.
It moves in a new dance it copies the
ocean.
And lonely as such, it isolates its
motion.
A reflection of grace on its
face, innocence.
Gasoline revolution
the flames are reaching the clouds
and igniting,
The trees are becoming daggers.

The natural world dissolves,
a kingdom divided.
It's arteries connected
to the bottom of the great blaze.

Dear Valentine Saga

Still, it's depth exceeds.
It blisters, and it bleeds.
It's arteries connected,
to the bottom of the sea.

Grasswater

I am the viking commander.
I rule the blood red sea.
My scourge has plagued the Earth.
My horde is legendary.
Through isles unexpected,
I made my power known.
Burned and raped and pillaged
what my victims used to call their homes.
Warm hearts bleed darker blood.
Unprepared flesh burns darker black.
We board our wooden tombs
With promise to never go back.
I've seen the greenest fields
become as dark as coal.
Turned sons and wives
into orphans and widows.
This is my battle.
This is my path.
Under my command,
Pit against my peoples wrath.
The shore becomes their graveyard
the ocean, their tomb.
I see valhalla open,
I see impending doom.
Floating towards her open gate,
my foundation ablaze,
To join the gods,
Ragnarok Awaits!
Ragnarok Awaits!

Securities.

If love really means setting things free,
then sweetheart, you can leave.
But if it also means wanting the very best.
You had best stay here with me.

The New Year

Wake up, monday, wake up.
Light, sound, smoke.
One night it's over.
It has been there forever.
And the new year,
the new year is ancient.