new theatres for the common man

from by weak teeth



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.


from what a plague you are, released October 22, 2011



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