"Perfect Strangers" has a nice ring to it.
We're flawless just before we open our mouths.
Now, I'm not suggesting we suppress our ideas.
Far from.
I'm just not convinced of the brilliance contained in our existential vomit.
Pick through the puke, I suppose? But there is only so much time to lose.
The tongue moves faster than the mind can race, and it's just your style to shoot first and never quite get around to asking the questions.
Firing blanks atop a high horse.
Opinions mistaken for TRUTH.
We said it, and that is the proof.
Megaphone mouths, tales to tell, ready for the press!
But it's all black ink on black paper.
There is no message.
We are the anti-message,
And I'm still death in conversation,
So stop trying to shoehorn my misanthropy into your classifications of judgement.
I see white devils dancing like pale, potbellied imps,
singing, "Viva, Lost Innocence!"
And how I loathe the armchair activists and apocalypse acolytes.
I'm very aware that the sky is falling, but your squawking isn't stopping or stalling this unavoidable outcome.
Oh, your heart is bleeding,
And you've got no reason
Because there's nothing you believe in.
You just want people to know that you're The Good Guy.
So apply more of that elbow grease to that good guy badge
Make that shit shine!
We've usually got eyes to see
But you don't see
you've got
NO EYES.
JUST TEETH.
And those teeth are chattering
Without meaning.
Me too.
Me too.
A stumbling man spills his drink and says,
"you've got a way with words!"
But weigh these words.
I say
AWAY WITH WORDS.