my friend is losing his mind
for fear of going insane
because no matter how down he is
there is still room below
he is no tragedy;
just a life
caracterized by gross misinterpretations
unbending images of self
and pure uncut anger
never allows him to hang loose
or be without pain for one second
he is so aware of himself that
the absurdity of it all is killing him
emitted from the wrong womb, at the wrong time, under the wrong sign
everyday is just an extension of yesterday, a hassle
and getting out of bed in the mornings like slow suicide
because he knows just what's going down
agonizingly,
i watch him bleed
fun comes hard and good times not at all
and there are so many things i could tell him,
but he's my friend
and i can see no good
in expending his consciousness to one more level
or to widing in his senses to introducing him to any more thoughts
that cannot be dealt with the same persons
sometimes,
i think you will have to kill someone
just to maintain his mental balance
and as repulsive as it sounds,
i would able to justify this actions logically,
valuably, and with very little imagination
his life is beyond reason
the very nature of his being is so insane that,
i almost give up...
searching for ways and meanings to comfort him,
to keep him around until tomorrow
and if i thought that there was true peace in the grave,
i would kill him
because that's what friends are for
but fortunately for those who miserable,
and unfortunately for him,
i do not believe that death would even work things out
unbeknownt to him
he's every friend that i have
he's the very epidemy of my own people
he's the mirror reflection of me, and i love myself...
all of us
to such an extent that i would gladly lay myself down
if i only just see, one me set free
from castration,
from alienation,
from regimentation,
from the dehumanization,
from americanization,
from the need to be, alive
and it's so hard to
smile and laugh and joke with him,
without letting on that i know
he's in my blood, he's in my guts, in my soul.
and in the very core of all my fiddle attempts to stay above law
and survive the pressure of too much truth.
my friend, we are one.
so please hold on,
because without you,
all that i am can ever be amount to nothing...
for fear of going insane
because no matter how down he is
there is still room below
he is no tragedy;
just a life
caracterized by gross misinterpretations
unbending images of self
and pure uncut anger
never allows him to hang loose
or be without pain for one second
he is so aware of himself that
the absurdity of it all is killing him
emitted from the wrong womb, at the wrong time, under the wrong sign
everyday is just an extension of yesterday, a hassle
and getting out of bed in the mornings like slow suicide
because he knows just what's going down
agonizingly,
i watch him bleed
fun comes hard and good times not at all
and there are so many things i could tell him,
but he's my friend
and i can see no good
in expending his consciousness to one more level
or to widing in his senses to introducing him to any more thoughts
that cannot be dealt with the same persons
sometimes,
i think you will have to kill someone
just to maintain his mental balance
and as repulsive as it sounds,
i would able to justify this actions logically,
valuably, and with very little imagination
his life is beyond reason
the very nature of his being is so insane that,
i almost give up...
searching for ways and meanings to comfort him,
to keep him around until tomorrow
and if i thought that there was true peace in the grave,
i would kill him
because that's what friends are for
but fortunately for those who miserable,
and unfortunately for him,
i do not believe that death would even work things out
unbeknownt to him
he's every friend that i have
he's the very epidemy of my own people
he's the mirror reflection of me, and i love myself...
all of us
to such an extent that i would gladly lay myself down
if i only just see, one me set free
from castration,
from alienation,
from regimentation,
from the dehumanization,
from americanization,
from the need to be, alive
and it's so hard to
smile and laugh and joke with him,
without letting on that i know
he's in my blood, he's in my guts, in my soul.
and in the very core of all my fiddle attempts to stay above law
and survive the pressure of too much truth.
my friend, we are one.
so please hold on,
because without you,
all that i am can ever be amount to nothing...