thank the loyal servants for being so loyal soon they ll be happy and very safe if not sent off like a pigeon with his head cut off if it wasn t for the guillotine there would be no umbilical cord isn t it pitiful at our pinnical they make it sound so pinnocchio that s how i know it s so dumb it could even write its own article give me a break the great big break that breaks your back and chews my fingers off til it s safe to laugh again or at them put the coals back in my eyes again and away from the fire that burns out our loved ones and takes its toll out on me cause good luck is always keeping minutes we gotta stay in play don t run out of tokens plus the machine needs warm bodies plug the pipes if you still got skulls if there s time to muddy the hands then there s time to study the flow of the blood in the lay of the land running off and eroding relatives with red white and blue christmas lights in the greatest kingdom i say it s a crop and i m a lousy meal a lousy liar amongst so many bad actresses and not enough stimuli left to light an oven pilot so how can i not be negative my own cliche my would be peers more caught up with image than speaking the truth and if that s the only truth you can come up with go fake some bravery like the rented camaraderie in the human lottery whatever year it is i m still sick can t hate the sky for being gray or the bad poem that we live out every day twenty minutes outside the city or fifteen years from over the hill with enough time to kill brain cells to fry you all gonna fry with me it must be you all gonna fry with me we who die in more flying accidents than firefights no cure of the overkill forty year old women with cakes and carriages singing bible hymns ain t fixing anything get your picket signs go on strike get a five cent raise your a champion now they re making model citizens out of your children mapping personal growth through frivolousness so separated yet drugged up to nowhereland even love feels artificial happiness my loaded pistol in the 20s i d have been a socialist in a colorado coal mine but it s 2000 something and the deaf rats love their mazes it s all so ethnospecific and opinionated divided we take our antidepressants and make our appointments let the dolphins die who s gonna save the humans i ve been to a million cities and they re all the same people laugh and talk the same girls all flirt the same employees all dream the same love your grid and your comfort zone look out for the white girl suicide bombers look out for your time or your peace of mind or entertainment above the fifth grade level stay ignorant and easily corralled through conservative reforms til we re broke from the half measures taxed to the teeth to fund the caste system living it up for our stereotypes and i know nothing but at least i know while they vote green and drink their espressos discussing film festivals all as a write off off with your head body loves the dirty work love your job but it will never love you like an automobile fetuses peoples and angels hang the same on the mobile if it wasn t for the blindfold you d ask what am i looking for living for breathing for who s them not i but it must be the plutonium in me  it must be the plutonium in me 