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i will always fail. i will never find the right words or frequencies. the voice i have is dead in me. i carried on through hate and rage, accomplished eyes welling up with shame. it’s our fault, mostly yours. common words, common chords. no one tries, no one learns. it’s important to discern who wants you to like them over what they have to say. with every year down the beaten path their compassion denigrates. from those who live convicted and walk with purpose through their halls. those, who, when get knocked down, will fucking crawl. though impressive our potential, we will always fucking fail. our power is a lie we sell the world. these frail words, i crafted them by hand. your black hearts will never understand these dead tongues, these dead words, this dead language.
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these arms were factory employed, valued for the tools and the time i’m expending. these arms are subject to want, toil if your need’s worth the trouble in bending—depending. these arms aren’t satisfied with your ineffectual life. they want the honest hands, the calluses and pride. my opportunity to work and affect change from the inside, i will always try. in this life, we’ll never own a home—black eyes—we’re allies in these downtrodden times. realize no matter what or how they victimize, they can’t make me feel worthless. i’m not perfect but i have a purpose. our lives, our vengeance, our hearts make all the difference. the seized land and our vacated homes—black eyes. our lives, our vengeance. through dread, through pretext. the odds are insurmountable—black eyes. our lives, our vengeance. not wealth, not privilege. we’re deprived and underutilized—black eyes. our lives, our vengeance, our hearts will make a difference for the betterment of all.
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4. |
facebath 2: hyperface
00:46
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everyday i pull another thorn from my side, watching empty lives emphatically deprived. as if some call to arms will help them recognize their vanity and pride isn’t justified. every day i’m dealt another devastating blow. what happened to our country we’ll never know. disillusion, wasted resolve. i am the reason why the world revolves. egotistical, lackadaisical. it makes no difference whether you live or die.
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i bore the brunt of every failing, every memory fraught with your regret. make no mistake, it’s my privilege. you can’t shame me into feeling sin for the nightmare that i grew up in. desecrate, relegate, my soul will never be broken. your words can’t hurt me anymore. every scar i suffered paved the way for a love i’ve never known. i’ll show you every day so you never have to live like her. you’ll never know that pain. i won’t apologize for who i am or regret my damaged dreams. ‘cause you’ll never hear me scream these words about what life was like for me. so Hiba, this is your world now. live a life without regret. tell your mother every day you love her. thank her every chance you get. you won’t be raised afraid. i don’t blame you, the decisions were mine, but come what may i own my life. i owned my life.
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awexome cross '98
01:04
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repeat my words. a lofty definition of a “movement” encapsulating “us.” a doubtful power commodified, intrinsic. the great revolt is never going to happen in the mystifying way you hoped. i fucking promise people are too comfortable to ever walk away. no hope. i am finished with your songs of union, forever acting like today will be the day the revolution is the work you’re doing, not in some concept that we lost along the way.
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you already know you’re right before you get a chance to speak, like you’re the only one who figured out the truth. it must be so fulfilling to know that everyone is wrong. if this is progress, then i don’t want to live life anymore. this is what i believe in, content to let it take control. if this is discourse, then i don’t want to live life anymore. my doubt has grown, carrying this torch on my own. my doubt has grown as i’m left to go it alone.
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look at your filthy fucking hands. don’t feel remorse. i don’t care if you’re sorry, i just want you to die. not get out on bail, not do any time. the matrix you invented is algorithmic crime, fiercely organized, designed to undermine. this can be expected from a market free to roam to steal your fucking home. oh precious blade, let me taste their blood. they’ll pay for what they’ve done. the day is coming with nowhere left to run. they’ll pay for what they’ve done.
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9. |
arson daily
01:03
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we are completely alone. trace the end in our fossils, nothing to blame but our need to fuck over and feed. fiending, buying, occupying. you’re dead already, walk around. you’re suicidal and depressed. convince yourself you’re not a mess, you’re nothing. we are animals thinning out the herd. non-biological germs. man is a virus as far as the earth is concerned.
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10. |
what a plague you are
01:20
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don’t you remember what made this seminal to us? the unity and constancy and trust was a labor lost. this is what we deserve for years of tearing people down. we watch our purpose dying with no one left to blame but ourselves. no wonder they gave up. what the fuck has changed? waiting for our time to talk barely listening. too desensitized to care, too occupied to know. gave up expectations long ago. this is our big contribution, this is what we’ve done. we shit on the ethos that made us one. your hallowed life of lies, your future that’s assured, i won’t be a part of it anymore. my whole life i waited for a change. my whole life i was the enemy. my hole life.
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11. |
blue skies, shit life
09:22
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the model kingdoms untranslatable by man are nothing any heart can understand. watch their eyes fixed and vacant to the skies, desperately seek meaning in their lives. we were made self-involved, and in our bankrupt nature de-evolved into bitter little frauds, unwilling to forgive. shutting out and never looking in at how their principles do not seem to matter at all, frightened by where we’ll concede. this graven image is yours, not mine, and i’ll be lost until i find something still unknown. i don’t want to be alone. if a soul remains once we’ve left this world, we’ll meet them face to face with pasts we can’t escape. we’ll try and sell a lie that they will not believe. they all bear the scars from the lash of humankind. god’s shame is mine. imperfect design. the gifts we’ve been given: squandered away. bottle my compassion up and walk over the weak. i never asked to be born. shattered out the chance for a peace upon the earth. i never asked to be born. i won’t be an accomplice squandered away. i hope we are forgotten. i hope we are alone. i’d rather be alone.
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