1. |
||||
|
„pup, i get that you‘re defective
and that you‘re secretive and stuff.
but i‘m giving it my all right now, okay? so
at least be human.“
i fool my mind,
you fool my body.
flog me into shape,
don‘t answer my pleas.
bits of my essence,
take what you need and leave.
(you got my stupefaction)
at the tip of your teeth,
the terrible truth is
i want you to want me.
attraction - distraction
affection - transaction,
i love you,
i need you,
but stay at bay,
stay away
because
i detest sex.
so i act funny,
express in kinesics
that i‘m not disgusting.
i detest sex.
isn’t it funny?
not hahaha-funny but…
funny.
i miss you when we‘re not alone,
your voice sounds different when it‘s just us two.
softer and bright,
like you‘ve never been sad before.
i leap and bound across the streets,
holler at you to come downstairs.
meet me by the porch.
warm pleas of
run with me,
run with me.
fight or flight
or blister highs,
fight or collide
with my frame and mind.
tingling scalp,
creating a trap
of wants that
may never happen.
i feel safe in missing you,
your voice sounds different when it‘s only you.
sadder but firm,
you‘ll be okay without the tapeworm.
i leap and bound across the streets,
erections collapsing on me.
swollen cheeks,
singing pleas of
run from me,
run from me.
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
make him regret every single time he put his index finger on your lips.
kill him,
send your husband straight to the asylum
(shave syllables off your name,
your soul, your presence, your wits
till your name fits on his lips.)
tough
luck,
hard
shove,
cold
blood
run
leave her alone
fuck off
you‘ll never silence a maverick.
|
||||
3. |
||||
|
i found that only blood tastes of blood -
your god forgives your actions but i fucking won‘t.
wiredrawers and their pawns,
choirs and gore and heedless clowns.
indoctrination is systemic,
your abhorrence, it’s endemic.
the men, they‘re all orderly: work hard & pay tallage,
they never burned witches but women with knowledge.
heads low, voice down, or they might see us.
church tax is low but you know what the fee is.
and if you care about tradition
here‘s one thing to remember;
keep the crowd distanced from reason
and the critics off the stages.
keep your wives out of discussions
and your kids away from windows
or they might get ideas,
they might get ideas.
|
||||
4. |
||||
|
you told me i would leave you so i gave you my word.
you didn‘t have to break me just to prove you were whole.
my sobs were silenced,
your tears were deafening.
i found - in forgiveness
there's a lack of - compensation.
there‘s a voice past the door:
„she can‘t hurt you anymore“
living - in howling guilt is
more serene than - for you.
you always said everyone would leave.
you told me everyone would leave you
and i proved you right.
|
||||
5. |
||||
|
jaws break, my blood dries on your knuckles.
hearts shatter, spotted you among the couples.
no heart
beating in my body:
copy of a copy,
copy of somebody.
i sleepwalk home from the party i died at,
a goldfish afloat at the top of the tank,
bottle to my head
bottle to my sick head
you cannot kill me in a way that matters!
jaws break,
hearts shatter;
more beer,
less chatter.
hearts break,
jaws shatter,
the less teeth
the better!
|
||||
6. |
hornbach has all my cash
01:11
|
|||
|
frustration:
a racing mind craving
„sick enough“.
to do better -
gray angel poisons own heart
sicker
i go too far,
it‘s never enough.
please doctor, i don‘t want to die yet.
but it won‘t be enough
until i‘m fucking dead.
disordered belief,
temporary relief.
hot warmness,
and cold mess.
sloppily aimed slit,
theatrical misfit,
circuit crash,
one last gash.
each trench,
each blade,
a choice made;
one that brings it closer.
fists clenched,
upset,
veins wrecked,
not yet dead, damned poser.
mentality,
brutality,
clots and clumps,
marks and bumps.
to kill the thirst,
which nerve ending
will finish the deed?
|
||||
7. |
hashtag deep
01:42
|
|||
|
premonition, drenched in fear,
i listen to such things to
differentiate
between whats real and what matters.
most of my vices are
attempted shortcuts to love.
to die is such a strain,
i‘ll just die in my head,
over and over
again,
when faced with myself in dreams.
i lost all lovable pieces of mind,
i won‘t let you close
for the damage you could find
and the damage you could do.
make it through the week.
i just gotta, i just gotta
make it through the week.
but what comes after?
confabulation
tricking me into beauty:
the reaper is my homie
and he masturbates to me,
i fake it, can you blame me on derangement?
i will chase it till it‘s wasted,
i will fake it till i break it
till i hate it.
i don‘t want to be here
but i must feel,
i must live this life
before i decide
it‘s not worth it.
as memorials collapse,
i fracture under skies of mold
and cut screams into myself.
|
||||
8. |
||||
|
lips soiled, teeth worn,
born and raised in a bodybag,
sick of her dependence.
hair up, knees down,
on a hunger strike for life:
real good at throwing plates.
psychiatry
thinks the least
of her techniques;
she‘s a mess but a masterpiece.
with every choke
through her throat
held by a rope;
gorgeous face framed with porcelain.
in retrospect
cause and effect
caused the defect.
its effective ‘cause she’s
not circumspect,
and she expects
rounds of applause;
she‘s dying for a cause.
premature menopause:
count your days, count to null:
she knows the drill, she knows the clause.
forever low
on tryptophan,
the first spade of dirt
hit her coffin.
twitter taught her
„angels vomit!“
and she listened so
she had it coming.
on the way
to the cemetery
she was late,
but fashionably.
eternal winter;
if you still want her
come and find her
past the lychgate...
|
||||
absent from the morning headcount Vienna, Austria
kai: voice
melli: bass
felix: guitar
wolle: drums
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