eleven:

carny geeks
(reset)

hidden in my cupboard
listening to Man go by
locked in my desk
whisperin’ to worlds that die

waitin’ for the Hand that resets my life
waitin’ till the end to reset my life

rotten on the shelf of despair
meltin’ to the heat of hatred
crippled by the weight of thougths
tossin’ my hands to wolves

waitin’ for the Hand that resets my life
waitin’ till the end to reset my life

______________________________________

I should note here that this next song was written after I was involved in a horrific accident that involved what is called in the US, an 18 wheeler. I really thought that everyone in our limo was going to die. It wasn’t until the truck accident lawyers I hired had their accident reconstruction specialists go to the scene to preserve and document all the evidence of the accident via photographs and other eye witness reports that it really became clear how close to the end it was for all of us. Not only did our truck accident lawyers ensure we received fair compensation for our physical injuries, but also for emotional, and financial losses. Additional compensation was litigated for property damage, lost income, diminished earning capacity, and pain and suffering that two friends in the car still suffer from. Although I still get nightmares that obviously are a result of the accident trauma, I have been able to channel some of my PTSD into my lyrics.

I went home

I went home
my father was dead

I went home
my mother was dead

I went home
my brother was dead

I went home
my sister was dead

I went home
you were dead

I went home
and I was dead

_______________________________________


frail (kradumarrich)

frail gargoyles are selling water to she
who’s thirsty of my love
flowers stretch like tentacles
across the sky of these four walls
enemy of my pleasure
satisfaction in my own destruction

and I rise I rise 
from this cold bed of painted ivory
and I rise I rise
out of this empty frame of misery

embraced by every colour
which indicates god gave me a mission
painting my own skin with fire
lettin’ a radio transmission flow
I can face any dragon now
I can lift this weight alone
and watch myself fall to the ground
leaving nothing but white traces to be found

and I rise I rise 
from this cold bed of painted ivory
and I rise I rise
out of this empty frame of misery

limbless children crawling
convinced to know how to fly
jumpin’ with no sorrow
in the void that’s drivin’ by
I close another chapter
carving the words “the end” in frail wood
I expect this noise to let me go and let me flow and let me flow
and I rise I rise
out of this empty frame of misery

(by marco deplano)

_______________________________________

And I should note here that this next song was written under the influence of drugs. Not cocaine or grass or shrooms, but man drug – bioidentical testosterone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m under doctor supervision, using prescription grade testosterone provided by my pharmacy. I’ve been injecting it for a couple of weeks and I’m feeling the juice. Very different than any other kind of drug in that it’s not an overt mind altering thing that’s happening. In addition to some physical changes (better skin quality, muscle tone, stuff like that) my head seems much more screwed on – I’m feeling extremely connected to my music in a way I really can’t describe, but it’s real. Anyway just a heads up if you’re wondering why this one is so different than the others…

the invasion of the human-men

(I’m) walkin’ my platypus
pickin’ livers in the dump
dark sign will remind me
to hate kill kill hate

dyeing my forearms
in a churchyard with cars
while the children of god
will hate kill kill hate

for I come straight from mars
an’ I loath tv commercials
for I’m not from this world
an’ I’m sick of it all

for I come straight from mars
and i loath politicians
for I’m not from this world
an’ I’m sick of this junk

(I’m) walkin’ my platypus
throwin’ up my true soul
the doom of humanity
is hate kill kill hate

rippin’ my eye off
in a football fan club
curse the children of god
and hate kill kill hate

for I come straight from mars
an’I loath tv commercials
for I’m not from this world
an’I’m sick of it all

for I come straight from mars
and i loath politicians
for I’m not from this world
an’I’m sick of this junk

whisper swear words into the saint’s ear
feel happy with slaughter
jerk off over a sinkin’ship
come over blastin’ bombs
rape the white dove
burn the priest an’ the thief
damn god for all time

_______________________________________________

memories of vienna

apfelstrudel
nasenspray
schnitzel, schnell
nasenspray
Vienna!

Einstricht
Vienna!

Keinstricht
Nasenspray,

Vienna!

________________________________________

psycho gate

should I detect strange behaviour
should I detect anything 
depending on your bad influence
terribile my wrath will be !

beware!
ponder well what show you show him !
beware !
no foolish lyrics, or
terrible my wrath will be !

should I detect queer antics
should I detect anything
hintin’ at your world
terrible my wrath will be !

beware !

______________________________________

trompozmo:

mind control program

I’m wired
I’ve been bugged

I’m wired 
I’ve been bugged

now the know
now they’re comin’ for me

now they know
they’re trackin’me down

and I know
only you could save me
__

comin’ they are
piercing the walls

comin’ they are
piercing my brain

save me
take me away

save me 
take me away

comin’ they are
creepin’in my veins
__

help me, help me, help me…
no way!
aaaahrgh!

______________________________________

toads and bugs:

donna

john popped along
john is a friend of mine
he sat back
we drank beer
and chatted
I didn’t fancy fuckin’him

barbara sue popped along
barbara sue is a friend of mine
she sat back
we drank beer
and chatted
I fancied fuckin’ her
but I didn’t even tell her

donna popped along
donna is my girlfriend
she sat back
I drank beer
and talked to myself
I fancied fuckin’ her
I told her
but she wouldn’t care

hope john will call again

____________________________

paint me with sorrow

paint me with anger
paint me with hate
my blood has no color
my mind is all blank

paint me with sadness
paint me with dullness
my blood has no color
my mind is all blank

I need your electronic paintbrush

paint me with sorrow
paint me with sorrow 
paint me with sorrow
paint me with sorrow

I need your electronic paintbrush

_____________________________________

total lack of vital energy:

23 12 12

even though it was night
even though it was not day
even though there was no light they gathered
the gods convened
there in Teotihuacan

(mayan text)

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