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The Fabric is coming undone I loaded my gun, and gave it away. I painted the room and don’t walk into it, but I hear the voices of those who betrayed me laughing in it. I healed the one I love, but broke myself doing it. I carry on in a broken frame.
Shit the wheel keeps spinning, and I hop around in its spokes, but always, I spin in the same fucking direction, you know? Always on a bicycle downhill. I’m boxed in by expectations of those around me. It’s like I’m a minstrel trying to perform Shakespeare, but reduced to performing vulgar jokes. Or worse yet, a boy being asked to be a man without any guidance. I hate it you know? The fabric is coming undone, and I'm not crazy about what's underneath it all. | |
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You should stop listening to those Godspeed You Black Emperor! records. There's Joy In Expatriation. | |
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I have some fabric glue
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I tried to be a man
I tried to play the part Thinking growing up was reaching out and thinking on your own I've learned a little bit and figured out the truth that everyone just wants to tell you what to do I've covered all the facts and stood them in a row and after shooting all the ducks down I deciphered out the code That it is just a trick and we are all pawns while the king and queen push us along I know that the whole world is spinning around I've taken all I can I've taken a bit more I've been dealt a deck of cards to find, the game is just a bore Pledged my allegiance well to a cause I cannot mend then to realize that this fight was all pretend Who knew that the whole world is spinning around? Though they have different faces, it's all the same while we are left to play their game And what do I have left but a thin pile of sand that has broken out the hourglass and jumped into my hand, a simple grain of salt alone in outer space revolving around a start to spawn a race. just to clarify, these are We Are the Fury lyrics, i didn't write this. [Edited 6/17/07 23:11pm] | |
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. [Edited 6/17/07 22:54pm] [Edited 6/17/07 22:55pm] [Edited 6/17/07 22:56pm] [Edited 6/17/07 22:56pm] | |
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Are we sharing our poetry? Okay, I'll get deep
I'm so deep the words of the prophet leaks from my anus I'm so deep the metaphorical public swimming pool of my mind is all deep end I'm so deep every word every word I speak is a metaphor including "and","is",and "every" I'm so deep pointing to my brain magnifies the value of my words 327 fold I'm so deep the words "I'm so deep" aren't a hook they're a mantra I'm sooo deep I can find the corndog in the platinum rap single of your mind And when I say I'm deep like a pre-war communist, or deep like an exotic fruit spoken of loudly, or deep like the sound of one but cheek laughing, you just have to shut-up (remember the mantra words) and say "that mo-fuh's hella deep yawl!" Because I am deeper than sense. I made not knowing the answer always the answer. My silence is deep I have deep underwear and my balls get lost in them I'm so deep I'm like the iceberg that let another iceberg sink the titanic question: what does that last metaphor mean? Answer: I'm too deep to give you the clues. I'm so deep I'm like the carpenter of deep I'm so deep I have like the combined DNA of all the great "deeps" before me I'm so deep "3" is "4" I'm so deep my cock is shaped like Merlin I'm so deep that the wind..... I'm so deep the end of the poem is really just the beginning Carpenters bend wood, fletchers bend arrows, wise men fashion themselves.
Don't Talk About It, Be About It! | |
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Imago said: I loaded my gun, and gave it away. I painted the room and don’t walk into it, but I hear the voices of those who betrayed me laughing in it. I healed the one I love, but broke myself doing it. I carry on in a broken frame.
Shit the wheel keeps spinning, and I hop around in its spokes, but always, I spin in the same fucking direction, you know? Always on a bicycle downhill. I’m boxed in by expectations of those around me. It’s like I’m a minstrel trying to perform Shakespeare, but reduced to performing vulgar jokes. Or worse yet, a boy being asked to be a man without any guidance. I hate it you know? The fabric is coming undone, and I'm not crazy about what's underneath it all. ... [Edited 6/17/07 23:59pm] | |
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Mach said: I have some fabric glue
Eh fabric glue is over rated... There comes a time to cast off the garments pinning us in... albeit we like it or not.... Never know.. we may fall in love with the truth! | |
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Imago said: I loaded my gun, and gave it away. I painted the room and don’t walk into it, but I hear the voices of those who betrayed me laughing in it. I healed the one I love, but broke myself doing it. I carry on in a broken frame.
Shit the wheel keeps spinning, and I hop around in its spokes, but always, I spin in the same fucking direction, you know? Always on a bicycle downhill. I’m boxed in by expectations of those around me. It’s like I’m a minstrel trying to perform Shakespeare, but reduced to performing vulgar jokes. Or worse yet, a boy being asked to be a man without any guidance. I hate it you know? The fabric is coming undone, and I'm not crazy about what's underneath it all. Umm, Baby- what's really going on with you? | |
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Muse2NOPharaoh said: Mach said: I have some fabric glue
Eh fabric glue is over rated... There comes a time to cast off the garments pinning us in... albeit we like it or not.... Never know.. we may fall in love with the truth! for real... are you ready for submission
cidade de deus | |
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Ex-Moderator | rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens... |
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We don’t mourn artists because we knew them. We mourn them because they helped us know ourselves. | |
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I'm not afraid of what's under MY fabric. I just wish it would reveal itself. You think my exhibitionism would encompass everything in my life. Somethings I keep hidden, even to myself.
M MyeternalgrattitudetoPhil&Val.Herman said "We want sweaty truckers at the truck stop! We want cigar puffing men that look like they wanna beat the living daylights out of us" Val"sporking is spooning with benefits" | |
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