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