Stoned Immaculate Page 2
Cause, effect
All transpires
Be Free Dear
Oh those precious, piercing eyes,
They must have me confused.
They tell a tale of lust and wonder,
But you don’t seem amused.
I’ll show you the world,
If only you knew.
The beauty it holds,
For sadly the few.
The world that nulls the sadness sighs,
No more tears for treasured eyes.
Dead seems the dreadful pain.
Gone with rage and all the same.
A ride of a life time,
And there’s never a fee.
Your one and only crime,
Is that you’ll always be free.
Old and Bored
Boredom strikes
Those lonely nights
No one to amuse me
Dire signs
Of failed designs
No one to assure me
I will never be alone
Never be that old
Never feel the bitter cold
Ignorance
Ignorance brings pain
Ignorance breeds violence
Ignorance feeds fear
Ignorance is silence
Goodbye
Glad to have met you
My sweet little one
Ill never forget you
Now that we’re done
No need to run, No need to run
My sweet little one, my sweet little one
We’ve pushed it this far,
I’m left with your scar
She laughed, she lied
This is my goodbye
Don’t cry don’t cry
Goodbye.
Try or Die
All our lives we pride our fears
Looking forward to nothing but tears
Put aside this disease
If only for a breeze
So you can see
Utopia
Is not just a tease
Every Day
The sun rising, beneath the horizon
Unseen space embracing your face
It’s a new day, so they say
What awaits you today?
Divine Inspiration
So hard to think
So plain to lie
Hear that?
Giant, Giant
Give me a smile
Give me your symbols
I’ll worship you a while
A Thanks
Thank you for your perpetual determination,
That has lead to my crucial creation.
Thank you for the model preservation,
You have attained my full appreciation.
You give with no obligation
No material compensation
Your only expectation
Is my valued idealization
But for the protection of my education,
I must refuse your ill-advised invitation.
I see evil in your cults of superstitions
I see exploitation in your nations and traditions
I do not blame you for your inhibitions
You never got an invitation,
Your only obligation,
Remains imitation.
The Infallible
The greatest gamblers,
Blind believers.
Renouncing reality,
For ancient morality.
Denouncing debates,
Salvation awaits.
A world of slums
Your gods have created
Yet comfortably numb
Mentally sedated
Misery and oppression
Depression, aggression
All is divine
In holy transgression
It seems to me
Your gods decree
In evil it be
Melody of Life
Moan for the moon,
Whisper for the sun.
Play me a tune,
I just wanna have fun.
Pursuit of Nostalgia
There’s people waiting
For something to hear
There’s too much debating
Nothing is clear
Our existence is fading
As we toil with fear
Senselessly crusading
For things we hold dear
Infinite
Spoken serenity
For all of eternity
Infinity
Crying viciously
Primordial Parasites
Can we strike our masters down?
Without their vengeance that’s renowned.
Their tools of torture
Their fools of fortune
The fate of Damiens piercing shriek
How they feast on the weak
Can we rid ourselves of this disease?
A parasite of all these years,
Autocrats, fat cats,
Tyrannical Plutocrats.
Revolutionaries died
The Partisans tried
We sang them their songs
Portami via, Portami via,
But to no avail,
The parasites prevail.
Sweet Girl
Sweating, naked
Consumed in your charm
Come to me darling
I cause you no harm
Don’t make me worry
Don’t make me wait
I’ll tell you I’m sorry
Before it’s too late
For Liberty
In this day
In this way
We refuse to obey
Pleasure an answer
For troubled minds
This is our prime
Our time to shine
Excess our game
Excess our shame
A rebel, a believer
A mystic, a healer.
Unbecoming
I asked for your name,
But you left me with shame.
Never asked for this game,
But I took all the blame.
I asked for your trust,
But you gave me this pain.
Never asked for your ignorance,
But you gave it the same.
I wished to wake you from these fears,
Tell you things that no one hears.
Show you beauties true attire,
And all the wonders it inspires.
Now I shriek a wretched moan,
Knowing you’re alone.
What will you do?
With all that you knew.
Delusions
No one knows
No one cares
No one wants to end this craze
People die
People cry
People live to live a lie
Promise of Tomorrow
Tricksters and politicians
Merchants of traditions
Exiled from reality
Forced into brutality
By such swift lies
By such suppressive cries
I have left your world
I have said my goodbyes
No pleasure in your barren land
No one kind enough to give a hand
Truth lies within your sin
Freedom comes the day you win
I’ll be waiting here
In my pleasure palace
Oh my boy
Oh my boy,
You better behave.
I’ll tell you a story,
When I was a slave.
I enslaved another,
You call her your mother.
You see I was weak
Thought I needed no other.
I played their game
And gave her my name
Now we are done
And I’m left with you son
Oh my boy
Don’t take that ride
You need no bride
Be Free!
/> Don’t be like me.
Women’s wail
We have yet to hear the females wail
Their time to tell their tainted tale
Their tale of tears that tares this race
Their peaceful place we must embrace
May we live to see the day
When women need not be our prey
May we live to see them say
No more will we live this way
Lonely Race
This stubborn bitter human race
Afraid to show its horrid face
Afraid of answers they might find,
Afraid to feel and be alive.
They say they want happiness,
But fear leads to loneliness.
They claim to have empathy
But are always seeking sympathy.
They say they want to live,
But they live with regret.
They have nothing to give,
But giving to get.
Ode to Hypatia
What pretty tales you tell to all,
Full of gods, glory and the rest of the story.
But I know nothing of your mercy and compassion,
For I still hear the bitter screams of Hypatia.
The familiar screams of my sisters, mothers and lovers,
Dying by the righteous hands of my brothers.
I will never forgive.
I will never forget.
But to spare and let live,
You can never regret.
For there can never be a hell,
For such a bright and honest Mademoiselle.
Waste of a Reasoning Race
Everywhere I turn.
I see potential burn.
Only green-eyed tools,
Begging to be used.
Choking on their troves of trinkets,
Tricks and trades beget these bigots.
With no purpose to their waste,
But the feelings that they chase.
Yet they have, not a clue,
About the feelings, that are true,
Nor do they, have a care,
For truth bears burdens, once aware.
Persistent Future, Perspective Past
Salvation awaits those who taste,
Misery claims others to waste.
Exploration, Experience and ideas,
Imitation loses its appeal.
Forget all that you’ve been told,
All the bullshit you’ve been sold.
Though the stories may seem bold,
Truth that made them long went cold.
Went the Wrong Way
Our forefathers have planted a vicious seed,
For which there is no more need.
And if you’re done with all this greed,
Then if you would please let us proceed,
We have thousands of years to recede.
The Need for Pleasure
A precious place pleasure holds for savoured sanity.
A place of grace that lacks loathsome vanity.
A place we can never find,
Amongst an ignorant kind.
The kind that loves the strife of living,
The kind that shuns of selfless giving.
The ones who make the game we play,
As long as we play it the way they say.
Nearing the End
Endangered fate,
Encircled in hate.
Innate ideas,
Full of fears.
Radical solutions,
Shunned by debate,
Awake! Awake!
Our existence is at stake!
The Antidote
Poisoned pupils,
Poisoned minds.
Poisoned by ignorance,
Poisoned by their kind.
Take a sip,
Of this here reason.
Lick your lips,
Embrace your treason.
Flowing by
How we awe in our advance,
Yet we hold a stubborn stance.
How we love the flow of flowing,
Yet we don’t know where we’re going.
How we hope enough to get by,
Except the ones who decided to die.
How the few ravaged our ride,
A ship of fools,
Exhausted and high.
There’s solution,
To our problem,
But it lies not,
In tale and proverb.
Where it lies,
Is in our ties,
To each other,
And our mother.
Ce n'est que le premier pas qui coute
Have you found illumination in the absolute?
Are you aware of the trepidation of this route?
The repercussion of your pursuit,
The inclination to live a brute.
If it’s meaning that you seek
The path of reasons never bleak
Infinite insights ready to reap
The pleasure of experience
Forever to keep
It may not be the immediate solution.
But certainly is the path of resolution.
Theatre of Situations
I’m so sick of the situation.
The endless compromise and recuperation.
The hypocrisy, autocracy and idealization.
The Spectacle.
The automated emotions,
The alternatives to thinking,
The symbols, the images,
This preagonal pilgrimage.
Cognitive Dissonance
An agrarian banality,
This kinship mentality.
When use becomes useless,
And we use it regardless.
Progression to tradition,
Tradition turns bizarre.
Along the same lines of procrastination,
As we crawl to our destination.
The new or the old,
Experiment or scold.
Freedom or tyranny,
Fear is the difference.
Das Kapital
Jingoes and Chauvinists
Socialists, Capitalists
Monetary fears
Machiavellian ideals
The fetish of things
The worship of kings
They changed the name
The rest is the same
Aspire for anarchy
Abolish the hierarchy
Shall we do the deed?
Shall we plant the seed?
Leichter gesagt als getan
All I need of a higher power
I speak of the men in their golden tower
Give me freedom
Give me power
Power to live
Power to give
Freedom from fear
Freedom from want
Monetary Syndrome
Things are not as they seem
Enslaved by your dream
Referred by your parents
To a pyramid scheme
You’ve been told it’s good
It’s the only way
A few hours a day
In order to play
Tactics of intimidation,
Ignorance, exploitation.
Slavery and procreation.
You can try to cry
You can scream to sing
They don’t give a fuck
C'est le syndrome de nos époques
Ideal Culture
Personification for the adaptation of appreciation
Individualism subdued,
Unused and lewd.
In time,
All are screwed.
A Feast of Lovers
I dreamt of a world
Where no one was sold
No one a slave
And no need to be brave
Where nothing is bought
And knowledge is sought
Where wisdom is revered
And new is never feared
I
dreamt of this land
With no lines in the sand
Devotion without strife
And purpose to a life
Where no woman is friendlier
And no man is prettier
No fathers, friends or mothers
Only groups of lovers
SFSN!
The insignias shone in the sun
The fear glittered on the gun
Symbols to prove their pride
And justify those that died
The stage has been set,
The rope has been measured.
Revenge must be met,
As they observe in pleasure.
They caught the traitor,
They caught the rebel.
A crime he cared,
To think he dared.
As he stepped on the stoop,
Looked down on the group,
Raised his fists in the air,
With courage so rare.
Dying words did his deed
Proclaiming a worthy creed
Smrt fasizmu,
Sloboda narodu!
Age of Ambiguity
Telltale signs of aberration,
Fear and confusion,
Indications of delusion.
A time where truth does not exist
Except for jokers and freaks dismissed
A time where freedom’s in your dreams
Where you slave for your regimes
A time where glory is vicious
And your saviors malicious
Where philosophy is history
And pleasure a mystery