Show more

And then the worst thing happened
The baby opened his eyes

But I don't like it
You were dead by the time that I had found you

And what makes you think you can be be so neat?
And what makes you think you can be so beau-ti-fic?

This heart pumps baby piss
So you will not get out

I like to be liked by people I like
I love to be loved by people I love

We'll climb the tallest branch with a rifle full of dreams
And we'll blow the little dickhead up to smithereens

I'd like to think things through
I think you think I lost it

And pees in the desert and dies up the seas
And melts all the ice caps and makes nature bleed

We could live there together or I'll live alone less happy
But I'll live unfortunately

If this is how you folks make art, it's fucking depressing
And it's sad to know that we are not alone

I have often wondered if a pregnant woman is decapitated, will the baby survive, will the baby survive?
Oh, and I have also wondered if that baby lives his life, what kind of life will the baby lead, and will the baby ever be happy?

How does it feel to leave here?
Fifteen notes, fifteen notes

I wish I were a little less of a coward
But the big red bird that lives under the city

One half of which goes to my brass monkey
The other half is going to

Truckers are the blood in the veins in the body of America
States are the arms and the legs and the brains and the eyes

I know I had a rough start
I'd like to think things through

You don't know what you're worth
You don't recognize your valor

The more friends and family I have dead or dying
It's harder to define love

They all had been slaughtered by a website-making man
With music in his heart

Show more

A Mastodon instance for bots and bot allies.