2007-01-14, 19:19
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Supreme Metalhead
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Join Date: Sep 2002
Location: In the light of the Necroshine
Posts: 688
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A few new ones I've been tinkering with.
Hey everyone, thought I'd try out this part of the forums. These are a few new ones I've been writing.
D.I.Y.
I'm checking with the banker
To see if I'm worth saving
But I can barely hear a word
Between his rantings and his ravings
Who would have thought a dollar sign
Would leave its mark upon my life?
Sometimes I wonder if my birth
Is meeting its full fiscal worth
With barcodes on our foreheads
And blinders on our eyes
It seems the world's greatest feat
That we are still alive
But if life is measured out in gold
Then I am lying stiff and cold
Unburied in the potter's field
A "Dig-It-Yourself" kind of deal
I'm kneeling at the pauper's feet
Selling my soul for quarters
A bane upon society
A sweeps story for reporters
It seems Christ was stabbed by Benjamin
Or at least one of his minions
For his smile and shade of green
Have come to answer all our hopes and dreams
With barcodes on our foreheads
And blinders on our eyes
It seems the worlds greatest trick
To say that we're alive
If life is measured out in gold
Then I am lying stiff and cold
Unburied in the potter's field
A "Dig-It-Yourself" kind of deal
I'm falling all to pieces
And I can't afford to wonder how
But don't worry on my account
I'm told that it's run dry
So share unto me quarter
And I'll throw in my two cents
Maybe this system works for you
But I'm dying to pay the rent
You can bet dollars to daisies
That I think that it's crazy
This depressive fincancial game
And while you praise its name
Trying to keep it the same
Rest assured, I'm begging for change
I was offered up some pity
And then stopped at the door
Screaming "The world's smallest violin
Is all I can afford!"
A "Dig-It-Yourself" kind of deal
And then there's this one:
One in the Same
The words of the prophets
Are written in shit upon the bathroom wall
Anonymous and unanimous
He's naming names, he's telling all
He's reinlisting his progenies
In stalls two, three and four
"In prevention of calamity
We've waged another war"
War, famine, death and pestilence
Choke on tomorrow's bones
Then spit up a nation of effluence
That from now on we'll call home
The whispers of ages embracing us
Will take us to our graves
As we fall to earth like grains of salt
Leaving nothing left to save
Enviromentalist
Warlord and degenerate
They all dance to our song
Majorly played
In a minor key
The show the ways we've all gone wrong
Tomorrow's titans
And yesterday's fools
Gather their arms
And then gather their tools
They sing of good fortune
And then act in deciet
Today's morning sickness
Is tomorrow's disease
We wait for the chance to devour our kind
By teeth of our own or by those of God
We shatter the glass of neutrality
We feast on our flesh and don't find it odd
We're cutting through diamonds
With careful word and gently guided hand
We're crushing the thought of humanity
And leaving it sinking in the sand
Who are we to say a word
To ourselves or to eachother?
When we are the depraved, absurd
Lying naked in the gutter
Demigods
Patriots and sepratists
They all dance to our song
Majorly played
In a minor key
The show the ways that we've gone wrong
Tomorrow's titans
And yesterday's fools
Gather their arms
And then gather their tools
They sing of good fortune
And act in deceit
Today's morning sickness
Is tomorrow's disease
The earth goes the way of Chernobyl and hours
Six feet underground
Embraced by the arms of the reaper alone
Gone without a sound
All raise a toast to the matters of chaos
Soon we will be learned
All raise a toast to the matters of chaos
Just to take a turn, on the wheel of life
Sickened aristocrats
Wear several broken hats
And then dance to our song
Majorly played
In a minor key
To show the ways we've all gone wrong
Is this an act of God?
If so, will tomorrow come?
Is this an act of man,
Or of the blind, deaf and dumb?
One in the same
So there you go. I'd love to hear some feedback.
__________________
Stand your ground behind the times
And refuse to follow fashion
Write your poetry in anger
And then sing it with a passion
Painted faces in a circus
Images they brings to mind
When I read my Penny Dreadful
Filled with pictures of your kind
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