I was dreaming of a steel guitar engagement
When you drunk my health in scented jasmine tea
But you knifed me in my dirty filthy basement
With that jaded, faded, junky nurse
Oh what pleasant company

We all need someone we can feed on
And if you want it, well you can feed on me
Take my arm, take my leg, oh baby don't you take my head

Yeah, we all need someone we can bleed on
Yeah, and if you want it, baby, well you can bleed on me
Yeah, we all need someone we can bleed on
Yeah, yeah, and if you want it, baby, why don'cha bleed on me
All over

Yeah..

Ahh, get it on rider, get it on rider, get it on rider
You can bleed all over me, yeah!
Get it on rider, get it on rider, yeah!
You can cream all over, you can cum all over me, oh!
Get it on rider, get it on rider, get it on rider
You can cum all over me

Yeah!

Get it on rider, baby cum all over me

Yeah, yeah
Get it on rider....

Son, don't put your hat up
Where you can't reach it
It doesn't make no sense at all

Good things come
to those who work hard for it
Adjust yourself
To the life you can afford to live

The road to the top is long and wide, yeah
The foolish dog bark at the flying bird
Patient man ride donkey
Cool out son,
Cool out son.

You have to creep
Before you walk
Where there is light
There is hope

Cool out son...

Cool it - you're too hot

There will come a time in your life when you will ask yourself a series of questions:

Am I happy with who I am?
Am I happy with the people around me?
Am I happy with what I'm doing?
Am I happy with the way my life is going?
Do I have a life or am I just living?
Do not let these questions strain or trouble you
Just point yourself in the direction of your dreams
Find your strength in the sound and make your transition.

Do not spend to much time thinking and not enough doing?
Did I try the hardest at any of my dreams?
Did I purposely let others discourage me when I knew I could?
Will I die never knowing what I could have been or could have done?
Do not let these doubts restrain or trouble you
Just point yourself in the direction of your dreams.
Find your strength in the sound and make your transition.

There will be people who say you can't - you will.
There will be people who say you don't mix this with that - and you will say "watch me".
There will be people who will say play it safe, that's too risky - you will take that chance and have no fear.

You won't let these questions restrain or trouble you.
You will point yourself in the direction of your dreams.
You will find the strength in the sound and make your transition.

For those who know its time to leave the house and go back to the field:
Find your strength in the sound and make your transition.

--The Unknown Writer
(Underground Resistance - Transition)

Attention thrills
And then it kills
They make you king
then make you ill
till you're alone
Dead on your throne

So, My Idea of Fun - Is Killing Everyone
My Idea of Fun - Is Killing Everyone

Now is the season for war with no reason
Now is the season for war with no reason

They break your skin
When you're a kid
They steal your soul
And keep it hid
And that is why
I hate mankind

My Idea of Fun - Is Killing Everyone
My Idea of Fun - Is Killing Everyone

As I stop, and take the time
To inventory, the inside of my mind
I realize, it’s not as full as it used to be.
With images of justice, or designs of liberty

The world has changed, or is it me that’s new?
A different set of morals from a different set of clues
So still I wonder, is this all there is to life?
The ever changing cycles, of a world that’s damp and ripe

There must more, yeah in my heart I hold to this
I’ve known the joy of love and I’ve seen the peace and bliss
But as you know, all things must end, except the need for faith
And the spirit that’s within to keep you strong

When it seems you're 'bout to break
Just call upon the strength within and plant it as your stake

Move forward with power, program yourself to feel
With depth enough to know what’s up and heart to sense the real

Where you at?

And now a picture for the frame we set aside
Below the bassline a secret place awaits for us to hide
To pass the time as the war goes on-and-on
Post-apocalyptic sunset, Post-apocalyptic dawn
But just the thought of the world we once possessed
A place that wasn’t ours is just a house with an address
A false existence, wrought with fear and mistrust, a life inside a box
No life inside of us.

Find your soul, and use your inner voice,
The road less traveled, is now the path of choice.
Realize with time comes change
New attitudes, new values, priorities rearranged

Move forward with power, program yourself to seek
Wear your shield of justice and wield your sword of liberty
Move forward, move now, program yourself to feel
With depth enough to know what’s up and heart to sense the real

Where you at?

There must be more.... more... more..
Is this all there is?
Is this it?

HAMLET

My excellent good friends! How dost thou,
Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both?

ROSENCRANTZ

As the indifferent children of the earth.

GUILDENSTERN

Happy, in that we are not over-happy;
On fortune's cap we are not the very button.

HAMLET

Nor the soles of her shoe?

ROSENCRANTZ

Neither, my lord.

HAMLET

Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of
her favours?

GUILDENSTERN

'Faith, her privates we.

HAMLET

In the secret parts of fortune? O, most true; she
is a strumpet. What's the news?

ROSENCRANTZ

None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest.

HAMLET

Then is doomsday near: but your news is not true.

Daddy, what does regret mean?
Well son, the funny thing about regret is,
It's better to regret something you have done,
Than to regret something you haven't done.
And by the way, if you see your mom this weekend,
Be sure and tell her, SATAN, SATAN, SATAN!!!

A Satyre Against Mankind

Were I - who to my cost already am
One of those strange, prodigious creatures, man -
A spirit free to choose for my own share
What sort of flesh and blood I pleased to wear,
I'd be a dog, a monkey, or a bear,
Or anything but that vain animal,
Who is so proud of being rational.

His senses are too gross; and he'll contrive
A sixth, to contradict the other five;
And before certain instinct will prefer
Reason, which fifty times for one does err.
Reason, an ignis fatuus of the mind,
Which leaving light of nature, sense, behind,
Pathless and dangerous wand'ring ways it takes,
Through Error's fenny bogs and thorny brakes;
Whilst the misguided follower climbs with pain
Mountains of whimseys, heaped in his own brain;
Stumbling from thought to thought, falls headlong down,
Into Doubt's boundless sea where, like to drown,
Books bear him up awhile, and make him try
To swim with bladders of Philosophy;
In hopes still to o'ertake the escaping light;
The vapour dances, in his dancing sight,
Till spent, it leaves him to eternal night.
Then old age and experience, hand in hand,
Lead him to death, make him to understand,
After a search so painful, and so long,
That all his life he has been in the wrong:

Huddled In dirt the reasoning engine lies,
Who was so proud, so witty, and so wise.
Pride drew him in, as cheats their bubbles catch,
And made him venture; to be made a wretch.
His wisdom did has happiness destroy,
Aiming to know that world he should enjoy;
And Wit was his vain, frivolous pretence
Of pleasing others, at his own expense.
For wits are treated just like common whores,
First they're enjoyed, and then kicked out of doors;
The pleasure past, a threatening doubt remains,
That frights th' enjoyer with succeeding pains:
Women and men of wit are dangerous tools,
And ever fatal to admiring fools.
Pleasure allures, and when the fops escape,
'Tis not that they're beloved, but fortunate,
And therefore what they fear, at heart they hate:

But now, methinks some formal band and beard
Takes me to task; come on sir, I'm prepared:

"Then by your Favour, anything that's writ
Against this jibing, jingling knack called Wit
Likes me abundantly: but you take care
Upon this point not to be too severe.
Perhaps my Muse were fitter for this part,
For I profess I can be very smart
On Wit, which I abhor with all my heart;
I long to lash it in some sharp essay,
But your grand indiscretion bids me stay,
And turns my tide of ink another way.
What rage Torments in your degenerate mind,
To make you rail at reason, and mankind
Blessed glorious man! To whom alone kind heaven
An everlasting soul hath freely given;
Whom his great maker took such care to make,
That from himself he did the image take;
And this fair frame in shining reason dressed,
To dignify his nature above beast.
Reason, by whose aspiring influence
We take a flight beyond material sense,
Dive into mysteries, then soaring pierce
The flaming limits of the universe,
Search heaven and hell, Find out what's acted there,
And give the world true grounds of hope and fear."

Hold mighty man, I cry, all this we know,
From the pathetic pen of Ingelo;
From Patrlck's Pilgrim, Sibbes' Soliloquies,
And 'tis this very reason I despise,
This supernatural gift that makes a mite
Think he's an image of the infinite;
Comparing his short life, void of all rest,
To the eternal, and the ever-blessed.
This busy, pushing stirrer-up of doubt,
That frames deep mysteries, then finds them out;
Filling with frantic crowds of thinking fools
The reverend bedlam's, colleges and schools;
Borne on whose wings each heavy sot can pierce
The limits of the boundless universe;
So charming ointments make an old witch fly,
And bear a crippled carcass through the sky.
'Tis the exalted power whose business lies
In nonsense and impossibilities.
This made a whimsical philosopher
Before the spacious world his tub prefer,
And we have modern cloistered coxcombs, who
Retire to think 'cause they have nought to do.
But thoughts are given for action's government;
Where action ceases, thought's impertinent:
Our sphere of action is life's happiness,
And he that thinks beyond thinks like an ass.

Thus, whilst against false reasoning I inveigh.
I own right reason, which I would obey:
That reason which distinguishes by sense,
And gives us rules of good and ill from thence;
That bounds desires. with a reforming will
To keep 'em more in vigour, not to kill. -
Your reason hinders, mine helps to enjoy,
Renewing appetites yours would destroy.
My reason is my friend, yours is a cheat,
Hunger calls out, my reason bids me eat;
Perversely. yours your appetite does mock:
This asks for food, that answers, 'what's o'clock'
This plain distinction, sir, your doubt secures,
'Tis not true reason I despise, but yours.
Thus I think reason righted, but for man,
I'll ne'er recant, defend him if you can:
For all his pride, and his philosophy,
'Tis evident: beasts are in their own degree
As wise at least, and better far than he.

Those creatures are the wisest who attain. -
By surest means. the ends at which they aim.
If therefore Jowler finds and kills the hares,
Better than Meres supplies committee chairs;
Though one's a statesman, th' other but a hound,
Jowler in justice would be wiser found.
You see how far man's wisdom here extends.
Look next if human nature makes amends;
Whose principles are most generous and just,
- And to whose morals you would sooner trust:

Be judge yourself, I'll bring it to the test,
Which is the basest creature, man or beast
Birds feed on birds, beasts on each other prey,
But savage man alone does man betray:
Pressed by necessity; they kill for food,
Man undoes man, to do himself no good.
With teeth and claws, by nature armed, they hunt
Nature's allowance, to supply their want.
But man, with smiles, embraces. friendships. Praise,
Inhumanely his fellow's life betrays;
With voluntary pains works his distress,
Not through necessity, but wantonness.
For hunger or for love they bite, or tear,
Whilst wretched man is still in arms for fear.
For fear he arms, and is of arms afraid:
From fear, to fear, successively betrayed.
Base fear, the source whence his best passions came.
His boasted honour, and his dear-bought fame.
The lust of power, to whom he's such a slave,
And for the which alone he dares be brave;
To which his various projects are designed,
Which makes him generous, affable, and kind.
For which he takes such pains to be thought wise,
And screws his actions, in a forced disguise;
Leads a most tedious life in misery,
Under laborious, mean hypocrisy.
Look to the bottom of his vast design,
Wherein man's wisdom, power, and glory join:
The good he acts. the ill he does endure.
'Tis all from fear, to make himself secure.
Merely for safety after fame they thirst,
For all men would be cowards if they durst.
And honesty's against all common sense,
Men must be knaves, 'tis in their own defence.
Mankind's dishonest: if you think it fair
Among known cheats to play upon the square,
You'll be undone.
Nor can weak truth your reputation save,
The knaves will all agree to call you knave.
Wronged shall he live, insulted o'er, oppressed,
Who dares be less a villain than the rest.

Thus sir, you see what human nature craves,
Most men are cowards, all men should be knaves;
The difference lies, as far as I can see.
Not in the thing itself, but the degree;
And all the subject matter of debate
Is only, who's a knave of the first rate.

All this with indignation have I hurled
At the pretending part of the proud world,
Who, swollen with selfish vanity, devise,
False freedoms, holy cheats, and formal lies,
Over their fellow slaves to tyrannise.

But if in Court so just a man there be,
(In Court, a just man - yet unknown to me)
Who does his needful flattery direct
Not to oppress and ruin, but protect:
Since flattery, which way soever laid,
Is still a tax: on that unhappy trade.
If so upright a statesman you can find,
Whose passions bend to his unbiased mind,
Who does his arts and policies apply
To raise his country, not his family;
Nor while his pride owned avarice withstands,
Receives close bribes, from friends corrupted hands.

Is there a churchman who on God relies
Whose life, his faith and doctrine justifies
Not one blown up, with vain prelatic pride,
Who for reproofs of sins does man deride;
Whose envious heart makes preaching a pretence
With his obstreperous, saucy eloquence,
To chide at kings, and rail at men of sense;
Who from his pulpit vents more peevlsh lies,
More bitter railings, scandals, calumnies,
Than at a gossiping are thrown about
When the good wives get drunk, and then fall out.
None of that sensual tribe, whose talents lie
In avarice, pride, sloth, and gluttony.
Who hunt good livings; but abhor good lives,
Whose lust exalted, to that height arrives,
They act adultery with their own wives.
And ere a score of years completed be,
Can from the loftiest pulpit proudly see,
Half a large parish their own progeny.
Nor doting bishop, who would be adored
For domineering at the Council board;

A greater fop, in business at fourscore,
Fonder of serious toys, affected more,
Than the gay, glittering fool at twenty proves,
With all his noise, his tawdry clothes and loves.
But a meek, humble man, of honest sense,
Who preaching peace does practise continence;
Whose pious life's a proof he does believe
Mysterious truths which no man can conceive.

If upon Earth there dwell such god-like men,
I'll here recant my paradox to them,
Adores those shrines of virtue, homage pay,
And with the rabble world their laws obey.

If such there are, yet grant me this at least,
Man differs more from man than man from beast.

All those whose mind entitles themselves,
and whose main entitle is themselves,
shall feel the wrath of my bombast!

Clanging in my heart.
Bastard! Idiot!

Feel the wrath of my bombast!

Bastard idiot!
Feel the wrath.
Those who dare mix real life with politics
And go on regardless of the ... of the discoveries
Will feel the wrath of bombast
clanging in my heart

All those whose mind entitles themselves
and whose main entitle is themselves
shall feel the wrath of my bombast!

I take it anywhere, any time that I can
I'm the fucking son of a superman
I got a weapon that's as deadly as life
It's a well trained tool of a master guy

Every day it's the same regime
A dozen boys are on my scene
Say sex boy will you come into my hand
They're all on the floor, I better do what I can
Take a number, it's supply and demand
Any time that I can

I put my knife into your gut
You gotta be above when you wanna make love
Say it exactly, sex boy, such a sideshow poster
After such a sweet sweet slut
Any time that I can
I'm the fucking son of a superman
I know what it takes
What in the time I can and can't do
I know what it takes to satisfy you
I know what it takes
That's why your time is due in the house of fortune
I take it out and you know it's gonna come from behind
Just like you, and you, and you, and you