1. |
Facemaker: Part I
02:13
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I finally finally lost it!
Sanitity is subjective anyway.
At least I have the peace of mind to sing aloud
"You're wrong! You're wrong! You're wrong! You see!?"
Situation summarized by the silence,
the violence, the gargling sounds of defeat
until the body stops, shutters, and shuts down.
And in her last words: "Ugghh..."
[Slightly before that]
"It's never too late to turn back!
Don't disguise the disconnect! Repent!"
You're wrong! You're wrong! You're wrong! You see?
This is not the bickerence of complacency,
it's kinetic energy.
Who are you running from?
Who are you hiding from?
Come out, come out wherever you are!
I'm in no mood for this game of silence.
I finally finally lost it! [Who are you running from?]
I finally finally lost it! [Who are you hiding from?]
I'm in no mood for this game of silence.
This is the season of sin.
The anthem of antonyms.
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2. |
Facemaker: Part III
03:18
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[enter stage left]
The amateur surgery to remove these wings
was not one done without the thought of flight
would now forever be forever a memory.
Fly! Fly! Fly!
The face tastes of dirt.
The back scabs, but at least it still bleeds.
Let that be a lesson.
Failing at success is just another failure.
Succeeding at failure is another success.
Anyone can breed success, now.
Brood over that.
"I didn't want to reinvent the wheel," he says,
"I just wanted to make my on tread, and leave my
own trail; and wings don't help me tell that tale."
To reach a point of time, allow to reflect:
A self-value higher than a net-worth.
Not only pigs feed at the trough.
Maybe some modesty would suit us all well.
Well...
This bride of discontent.
This urge of self-violence, once thought
could never come too soon.
This bride of discontent.
This violence. This is shaping up
to be one hell of a honeymoon.
Pounding soil, nearing the cliff end,
screams of "Stop!" opposite of where he treads.
The feeling of falling and failure
is so overwhelming he opens his eyes
and sits up in his chair.
"How clever! How appropriate!
A delusion!!"
He says as he thinks of his fabled absolution.
"I didn't want to reinvent the wheel;
I just wanted to make my own tread,
and leave my own trail."
[approach the exit; stage right]
"Maybe not have changed;
at least thought about it tonight."
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