Garrison Kelly's Blog, page 46
April 3, 2019
Yelling at Empty Seats
VERSE 1
You’re not owed an audience
And we’re not fucking idiots
Shouting in an empty venue
Isn’t on our college menu
Fuck your so called “big ideas”
There’s no sense in fighting us
Racist trash and sexist garbage
Spoken by obvious con artists
CHORUS
Yelling at empty seats
About what you believe
What will it achieve?
Who will you deceive?
VERSE 2
Yelling at invisible drag queens
Transgender males in their teens
Black Lives Matter protestors
And human rights protectors
Yelling at people not even there
We stayed home in case you care
Your talking points bore us to tears
Try spreading hope instead of fear
CHORUS
Yelling at empty seats
About what you believe
What will it achieve?
Who will you deceive?
PRE-VERSE
Let me ask you a philosophical question
VERSE 3
If you shout and nobody cares
Were you even fucking there?
Do you go on a verbal tear
And picture everyone in underwear?
When you break the fourth wall
Do you need to give mommy a call?
If only there was someone to answer
But we’re busy avoiding your banter
EXTENDED CHORUS
Yelling at empty seats
About what you believe
What will it achieve?
Who will you deceive?
Yelling at empty rows
Purple-in-the-face prose
Save it, we already know
Same shit, different show
You’re not owed an audience
And we’re not fucking idiots
Shouting in an empty venue
Isn’t on our college menu
Fuck your so called “big ideas”
There’s no sense in fighting us
Racist trash and sexist garbage
Spoken by obvious con artists
CHORUS
Yelling at empty seats
About what you believe
What will it achieve?
Who will you deceive?
VERSE 2
Yelling at invisible drag queens
Transgender males in their teens
Black Lives Matter protestors
And human rights protectors
Yelling at people not even there
We stayed home in case you care
Your talking points bore us to tears
Try spreading hope instead of fear
CHORUS
Yelling at empty seats
About what you believe
What will it achieve?
Who will you deceive?
PRE-VERSE
Let me ask you a philosophical question
VERSE 3
If you shout and nobody cares
Were you even fucking there?
Do you go on a verbal tear
And picture everyone in underwear?
When you break the fourth wall
Do you need to give mommy a call?
If only there was someone to answer
But we’re busy avoiding your banter
EXTENDED CHORUS
Yelling at empty seats
About what you believe
What will it achieve?
Who will you deceive?
Yelling at empty rows
Purple-in-the-face prose
Save it, we already know
Same shit, different show
Building My Life Around Mental Health
***BEFORE I BEGIN***
I know in the last blog entry I told you all that this current one was going to be about the Wrestling Observer Newsletter awards for 2018, particularly their Most Disgusting Promotional Tactic category. That was a lie. Truth is, I’ve pretty much accepted the fact that I’m on an island with that one, so I’m not going to write it. Spoiler alert: the big winner of that award was WWE’s business relationship with Saudi Arabia. If you followed the news around the time Jamal Khashoggi was murdered, you’ll know why this promotional tactic was pretty fucking bad. Plus, there’s that whole thing about human rights abuses and suppressing women’s freedom.
***BUILDING MY LIFE AROUND MENTAL HEALTH***
If I wanted to, I could elevate my career to newfound levels of fame. I can take certain Skillshare classes on marketing, I can hook up with the right people, I can make an Author Tube platform, I can do all of these things that any sane independent author would do. But the truth is, if I do all of those things and achieve my highest level of fame and fortune, it might come at a steep price. For years now, I’ve built my entire life around two things: staying mentally healthy and knowing when I’m too tired to carry on. Stressing myself out will derail both of those plans.
Taking good care of my mind is the biggest reason why I don’t do a lot of things normal adults should be doing. I don’t apply for fast-paced jobs, I don’t drive a car, I don’t put myself out there socially, because if I do any of these things, my mind is toast. I’ve probably talked about this subject before, so excuse me if any of this sounds familiar to you. Stress plays a huge role in how a mentally ill mind can function. Too much of it can lead to long-lasting damage. Playing it safe sounds like a cowardly strategy, but I’ve been in those stressful situations before and I don’t need another schizophrenic episode. In a way I’ve learned to fear them. I had a lot of schizophrenic episodes during my WWU days. It might have had more to do with my caffeine intake and isolation than actual schoolwork, but I’m still weary about going back to college for any reason.
I know full well that taking risks is the key to success. But what does success look like and what is it worth when the cost is paid? Does it mean being famous? If that’s the case, then it’ll mean I’ll be looked at under a microscope by the entire world. Every review and every criticism will be felt on a magnified level. Escaping fame and getting out from under the microscope is damned near impossible. One bad criticism could result in a firestorm of public shaming. If that’s what fame and fortune will lead to, then I want no part of it. I’ve been publicly shamed before and with a schizophrenic mind it hurt like a motherfucker.
But what else does success look like? Having a shit ton of money? Okay, great, but what am I going to do with all of this money? People give billionaires a hard time for not being able to spend all of their money in their lifetime and rightfully so. I don’t need things like yachts and summer mansions. I don’t need an island in the Caribbean. To be honest, I don’t really know what I’d like to spend copious amounts of money on. Travel? Great, but where to and for how long? Books and CD’s? Perfect, but I do that enough already. Donations? Again, I do that enough already. Concerts? Well, you know where this is heading.
So basically in order to be successful in my line of work, I have to sacrifice my mental health for rewards I have no idea what to do with. Maybe I can use all of my earned income to repair my mental health. I could go down to California and visit Cuddle Sanctuary for platonic spooning. I could go to Las Vegas and buy real sex. I could go on a “Secret Journey” like the Police song says and become a holy man. But wait a minute…I sacrifice my mental health just so I can have enough money to repair it. You talk about a catch-22. Holy shit!
I’m not at all saying that I’m against the idea of fame and fortune. But if I’m going to achieve it, I’m going to have to be careful and realistic about what I want and how I get it. I need to do a lot of soul-searching and a lot of online research. This isn’t something I’m going to take lightly and if I need encouragement from others, I’m going to take it. But until then, I’ll just keep chugging along and satisfying the demons in my head for yet another year. Maybe when I earn enough money, I can buy a cure for schizophrenia! Heh, we all know one doesn’t exist.
In the end, I’m not ashamed of building my life around mental illness. It gets boring sometimes, but it’s better to be bored than in constant psychological torment. At least with boredom I can relax and let my mind wander to lighthearted places instead of dark ones. Apparently, I’m not alone in thinking this. I’ve met people on the Face Book group Writing About Writing who also don’t see fame and fortune as their end game and they too struggle with mental illness. Don’t take this as a sign that I’m completely giving up. Take it as a sign that I’ll be more cautious in my climb to the top. I’m Garrison Kelly! Even when you feel like dying…actually, this would be a good time to slow down and take a breather.
***LYRICS OF THE DAY***
“Upon a secret journey, I met a holy man. His blindness was his wisdom. I’m such a lonely man. And as the world was turning, it rolled itself in pain. This does not seem to touch you. He pointed to the rain. And on the days that followed, I listened to his words. I strained to understand him. I chased his thoughts like birds. You will see light in the darkness. You will make some sense of this. You will see joy in this sadness. You will find this love you missed. And when you’ve made your secret journey, you will be a holy man.”
-The Police singing “Secret Journey”-
***POST-SCRIPT***
On a high note, I only have one more chapter of Emilio and the Scratching Post to write and then it’s off to critiqueville. I might write it tomorrow. I might write it the day after. Or the day after. Or the day after. Either way, I’ll be thankful to see my story in yet another Hollow Hills publication. Wish me luck!
I know in the last blog entry I told you all that this current one was going to be about the Wrestling Observer Newsletter awards for 2018, particularly their Most Disgusting Promotional Tactic category. That was a lie. Truth is, I’ve pretty much accepted the fact that I’m on an island with that one, so I’m not going to write it. Spoiler alert: the big winner of that award was WWE’s business relationship with Saudi Arabia. If you followed the news around the time Jamal Khashoggi was murdered, you’ll know why this promotional tactic was pretty fucking bad. Plus, there’s that whole thing about human rights abuses and suppressing women’s freedom.
***BUILDING MY LIFE AROUND MENTAL HEALTH***
If I wanted to, I could elevate my career to newfound levels of fame. I can take certain Skillshare classes on marketing, I can hook up with the right people, I can make an Author Tube platform, I can do all of these things that any sane independent author would do. But the truth is, if I do all of those things and achieve my highest level of fame and fortune, it might come at a steep price. For years now, I’ve built my entire life around two things: staying mentally healthy and knowing when I’m too tired to carry on. Stressing myself out will derail both of those plans.
Taking good care of my mind is the biggest reason why I don’t do a lot of things normal adults should be doing. I don’t apply for fast-paced jobs, I don’t drive a car, I don’t put myself out there socially, because if I do any of these things, my mind is toast. I’ve probably talked about this subject before, so excuse me if any of this sounds familiar to you. Stress plays a huge role in how a mentally ill mind can function. Too much of it can lead to long-lasting damage. Playing it safe sounds like a cowardly strategy, but I’ve been in those stressful situations before and I don’t need another schizophrenic episode. In a way I’ve learned to fear them. I had a lot of schizophrenic episodes during my WWU days. It might have had more to do with my caffeine intake and isolation than actual schoolwork, but I’m still weary about going back to college for any reason.
I know full well that taking risks is the key to success. But what does success look like and what is it worth when the cost is paid? Does it mean being famous? If that’s the case, then it’ll mean I’ll be looked at under a microscope by the entire world. Every review and every criticism will be felt on a magnified level. Escaping fame and getting out from under the microscope is damned near impossible. One bad criticism could result in a firestorm of public shaming. If that’s what fame and fortune will lead to, then I want no part of it. I’ve been publicly shamed before and with a schizophrenic mind it hurt like a motherfucker.
But what else does success look like? Having a shit ton of money? Okay, great, but what am I going to do with all of this money? People give billionaires a hard time for not being able to spend all of their money in their lifetime and rightfully so. I don’t need things like yachts and summer mansions. I don’t need an island in the Caribbean. To be honest, I don’t really know what I’d like to spend copious amounts of money on. Travel? Great, but where to and for how long? Books and CD’s? Perfect, but I do that enough already. Donations? Again, I do that enough already. Concerts? Well, you know where this is heading.
So basically in order to be successful in my line of work, I have to sacrifice my mental health for rewards I have no idea what to do with. Maybe I can use all of my earned income to repair my mental health. I could go down to California and visit Cuddle Sanctuary for platonic spooning. I could go to Las Vegas and buy real sex. I could go on a “Secret Journey” like the Police song says and become a holy man. But wait a minute…I sacrifice my mental health just so I can have enough money to repair it. You talk about a catch-22. Holy shit!
I’m not at all saying that I’m against the idea of fame and fortune. But if I’m going to achieve it, I’m going to have to be careful and realistic about what I want and how I get it. I need to do a lot of soul-searching and a lot of online research. This isn’t something I’m going to take lightly and if I need encouragement from others, I’m going to take it. But until then, I’ll just keep chugging along and satisfying the demons in my head for yet another year. Maybe when I earn enough money, I can buy a cure for schizophrenia! Heh, we all know one doesn’t exist.
In the end, I’m not ashamed of building my life around mental illness. It gets boring sometimes, but it’s better to be bored than in constant psychological torment. At least with boredom I can relax and let my mind wander to lighthearted places instead of dark ones. Apparently, I’m not alone in thinking this. I’ve met people on the Face Book group Writing About Writing who also don’t see fame and fortune as their end game and they too struggle with mental illness. Don’t take this as a sign that I’m completely giving up. Take it as a sign that I’ll be more cautious in my climb to the top. I’m Garrison Kelly! Even when you feel like dying…actually, this would be a good time to slow down and take a breather.
***LYRICS OF THE DAY***
“Upon a secret journey, I met a holy man. His blindness was his wisdom. I’m such a lonely man. And as the world was turning, it rolled itself in pain. This does not seem to touch you. He pointed to the rain. And on the days that followed, I listened to his words. I strained to understand him. I chased his thoughts like birds. You will see light in the darkness. You will make some sense of this. You will see joy in this sadness. You will find this love you missed. And when you’ve made your secret journey, you will be a holy man.”
-The Police singing “Secret Journey”-
***POST-SCRIPT***
On a high note, I only have one more chapter of Emilio and the Scratching Post to write and then it’s off to critiqueville. I might write it tomorrow. I might write it the day after. Or the day after. Or the day after. Either way, I’ll be thankful to see my story in yet another Hollow Hills publication. Wish me luck!
April 2, 2019
Freedom of Information
CREEPY CHILDREN’S CHOIR X2
Tell on a gang
Look for friends
Take a course of action
And throw him in the sea
SCREAMING LINE 1
Get the fuck out of my head!
VERSE 1
Those words are not yours to read
You weren’t the one who had to bleed
You never had to hide your shame
You never had to change your name
CHORUS
Freedom of information
Public humiliation
Classroom comedy
Psychological sodomy
SCREAMING LINE 2
What are you fuckers laughing at?!
VERSE 2
An immature sense of humor
Labeling everyone a loser
Laughing at everything in sight
You never had to run and hide
CHORUS
Freedom of information
Public humiliation
Classroom comedy
Psychological sodomy
BRIDGE
Don’t minimize this horseshit
It’s not so easy to fucking forget
Punish these chuckling morons
Before somebody chugs Clorox
VERSE 3
Thank god I’m done with this shit
There’s nowhere in class to sit
I’ve washed my face full of spit
No longer treated like a kid
CHORUS
Freedom of information
Public humiliation
Classroom comedy
Psychological sodomy
CREEPY CHILDREN’S CHOIR
Tell on a gang
Look for friends
Take a course of action
And throw him in the sea
SCREAMING LINE 3
Piss off, you little shit weasels! Ugh!
Tell on a gang
Look for friends
Take a course of action
And throw him in the sea
SCREAMING LINE 1
Get the fuck out of my head!
VERSE 1
Those words are not yours to read
You weren’t the one who had to bleed
You never had to hide your shame
You never had to change your name
CHORUS
Freedom of information
Public humiliation
Classroom comedy
Psychological sodomy
SCREAMING LINE 2
What are you fuckers laughing at?!
VERSE 2
An immature sense of humor
Labeling everyone a loser
Laughing at everything in sight
You never had to run and hide
CHORUS
Freedom of information
Public humiliation
Classroom comedy
Psychological sodomy
BRIDGE
Don’t minimize this horseshit
It’s not so easy to fucking forget
Punish these chuckling morons
Before somebody chugs Clorox
VERSE 3
Thank god I’m done with this shit
There’s nowhere in class to sit
I’ve washed my face full of spit
No longer treated like a kid
CHORUS
Freedom of information
Public humiliation
Classroom comedy
Psychological sodomy
CREEPY CHILDREN’S CHOIR
Tell on a gang
Look for friends
Take a course of action
And throw him in the sea
SCREAMING LINE 3
Piss off, you little shit weasels! Ugh!
March 29, 2019
Pool
Floating on my back, an out of body experience
The water’s nice and warm, nothing too serious
Just me, the sunset, and my vast imagination
A perfect way to continue my mental vacation
I could travel through the ocean of twinkling stars
Forget the noisy highway and its polluting cars
I could pretend there are hands on my shoulders
Cupping, squeezing to keep me from getting colder
A sensual soundtrack to trigger my young thoughts
The smell of herbal tea boiling on the stovetop
For one night only, I have nothing to worry about
I could stay here forever, never once getting out
The water feels good against my aching muscles
Relaxation feels good after a day’s worth of hustle
I’ll swim a few laps in my own personal ocean
Marine life and crystals recharging my emotions
Baptism in sweetness, cure all of my diseases
Walk on the surface like a modern day Jesus
Part the seas with my hydromantic powers
Give watery life to the springtime flowers
If the phone rings, then I’ll refuse to answer
I wouldn’t even rise for the necromancer
Nothing can remove me from my sparkling sea
Nothing will qualify as a true emergency
The world can wait until my stress melts away
It’s not as though I won’t wake up the next day
Forget the afterlife, because this pool is heaven
It’s been that way for all of twenty-four-seven
When I rise in the sunlit dawn of morning
I shall return despite your deaf-ears warnings
You can call it hedonism until your throat is raw
But I give zero cares about your biblical laws
Being a grown man is intolerably overrated
It’s better to live life painless and sedated
The water’s nice and warm, nothing too serious
Just me, the sunset, and my vast imagination
A perfect way to continue my mental vacation
I could travel through the ocean of twinkling stars
Forget the noisy highway and its polluting cars
I could pretend there are hands on my shoulders
Cupping, squeezing to keep me from getting colder
A sensual soundtrack to trigger my young thoughts
The smell of herbal tea boiling on the stovetop
For one night only, I have nothing to worry about
I could stay here forever, never once getting out
The water feels good against my aching muscles
Relaxation feels good after a day’s worth of hustle
I’ll swim a few laps in my own personal ocean
Marine life and crystals recharging my emotions
Baptism in sweetness, cure all of my diseases
Walk on the surface like a modern day Jesus
Part the seas with my hydromantic powers
Give watery life to the springtime flowers
If the phone rings, then I’ll refuse to answer
I wouldn’t even rise for the necromancer
Nothing can remove me from my sparkling sea
Nothing will qualify as a true emergency
The world can wait until my stress melts away
It’s not as though I won’t wake up the next day
Forget the afterlife, because this pool is heaven
It’s been that way for all of twenty-four-seven
When I rise in the sunlit dawn of morning
I shall return despite your deaf-ears warnings
You can call it hedonism until your throat is raw
But I give zero cares about your biblical laws
Being a grown man is intolerably overrated
It’s better to live life painless and sedated
March 27, 2019
March Madness
From sunshine to rainfall, a change in the weather
From high to low, we never see it get any better
They call it March Madness for a good reason
This is the time of year for a suicide season
One minute we could be in the highest spirits
Another we beg for mercy and no one hears it
This is the very definition of being alone
Tears pouring down on our faces of stone
Memories from seemingly a long time ago
Come rampaging back, you fight toe to toe
We could convince ourselves over and over
That we’re in control and we are the owners
But it’s always been just a temporary fix
This isn’t Star Wars, these aren’t Jedi tricks
We aren’t superheroes, we don’t gain strength
We barely survive for a shorter time length
Whoever said that our struggles aren’t real
Just doesn’t have any empathy left to feel
It’s as real as a gunshot wound to the chest
Or a blast to the head where there is no vest
It’s as real as wearing a noose as a necktie
It’s as real as watching someone finally die
Don’t laugh us off, let’s all come together
Survive another change in teardrop weather
We are an army, more than you can imagine
We are an army and together we’ll manage
If all you did was survive yet another day
Reward yourself in some wonderful way
A chocolate chip cookie, a tray of hot wings
A Netflix movie that makes you feel things
You’re not alone and none of us really are
It’s time for us all to come out of the dark
From high to low, we never see it get any better
They call it March Madness for a good reason
This is the time of year for a suicide season
One minute we could be in the highest spirits
Another we beg for mercy and no one hears it
This is the very definition of being alone
Tears pouring down on our faces of stone
Memories from seemingly a long time ago
Come rampaging back, you fight toe to toe
We could convince ourselves over and over
That we’re in control and we are the owners
But it’s always been just a temporary fix
This isn’t Star Wars, these aren’t Jedi tricks
We aren’t superheroes, we don’t gain strength
We barely survive for a shorter time length
Whoever said that our struggles aren’t real
Just doesn’t have any empathy left to feel
It’s as real as a gunshot wound to the chest
Or a blast to the head where there is no vest
It’s as real as wearing a noose as a necktie
It’s as real as watching someone finally die
Don’t laugh us off, let’s all come together
Survive another change in teardrop weather
We are an army, more than you can imagine
We are an army and together we’ll manage
If all you did was survive yet another day
Reward yourself in some wonderful way
A chocolate chip cookie, a tray of hot wings
A Netflix movie that makes you feel things
You’re not alone and none of us really are
It’s time for us all to come out of the dark
March 25, 2019
Everyone's a Demon
Everyone’s a demon, everyone’s a sinner
Everybody does things that make others shiver
From the tiniest fuck-ups to the nuclear level
Everybody’s cloned from the same old devil
Skeletons invade our most secretive closets
Saying otherwise is bullshit and I will call it
Putting your heroes on the highest pedestal
Will make your disappointment credible
What should we forgive? What should we punish?
A slap on the wrist or an all-out whodunit?
Where should society draw the fucking line?
What would they consider the ultimate crime?
It’s a constant game of limbo, how low will we go?
When crossing the threshold, how will we know?
Everyone’s a demon, everyone’s a mistake
Everyone’s a devil, for Jesus Christ’s sake
Everybody fucks up, some more than others
Few will swear on the graves of their mothers
That they’ve changed into a brand new person
Yet they still live with their crippling curses
To forgive or fuck? That is our only question
Is the answer even worth a minimal mention?
Go ahead and behave how you want to behave
In the end, everybody sleeps in the grave
Everyone’s a demon on their way to hell
I don’t give a shit in case you couldn’t tell
Everybody does things that make others shiver
From the tiniest fuck-ups to the nuclear level
Everybody’s cloned from the same old devil
Skeletons invade our most secretive closets
Saying otherwise is bullshit and I will call it
Putting your heroes on the highest pedestal
Will make your disappointment credible
What should we forgive? What should we punish?
A slap on the wrist or an all-out whodunit?
Where should society draw the fucking line?
What would they consider the ultimate crime?
It’s a constant game of limbo, how low will we go?
When crossing the threshold, how will we know?
Everyone’s a demon, everyone’s a mistake
Everyone’s a devil, for Jesus Christ’s sake
Everybody fucks up, some more than others
Few will swear on the graves of their mothers
That they’ve changed into a brand new person
Yet they still live with their crippling curses
To forgive or fuck? That is our only question
Is the answer even worth a minimal mention?
Go ahead and behave how you want to behave
In the end, everybody sleeps in the grave
Everyone’s a demon on their way to hell
I don’t give a shit in case you couldn’t tell
March 24, 2019
Creepy or Brave?
VERSE 1
Young man, big fan, tell her how you feel
Wear her colors with the most passionate zeal
Go to every show and sit in the front row
If you don’t, then you will never ever know
PRE-CHORUS
Restraining order or even less quarter?
Open arms or even bigger charms?
Come on back or get the fuck away?
Are you creepy or are you brave?
CHORUS
Creepy or brave? X4
VERSE 2
Funny guy, give a try, you’re one of a kind
On the mic, make them like what they find
‘Cause if you bomb like a nuclear warhead
You’ll be easy to boo and easier to forget
PRE-CHORUS
Restraining order or even less quarter?
Open arms or even bigger charms?
Come on back or get the fuck away?
Are you creepy or are you brave?
CHORUS
Creepy or brave? X4
BRIDGE
Talk the talk and walk the walk
Mock the mocked and stalk the stalk
They won’t reward your courage
They’ll leave your heart forever hurting
CHORUS
Creepy or brave? X4
FINAL VERSE
Nice tie, nice suit, nice Gucci shoes
Nice headshot all over the news
Are you ready to defend your life?
Or will you just roll over and die?
CHORUS
Creepy or brave? X4
Young man, big fan, tell her how you feel
Wear her colors with the most passionate zeal
Go to every show and sit in the front row
If you don’t, then you will never ever know
PRE-CHORUS
Restraining order or even less quarter?
Open arms or even bigger charms?
Come on back or get the fuck away?
Are you creepy or are you brave?
CHORUS
Creepy or brave? X4
VERSE 2
Funny guy, give a try, you’re one of a kind
On the mic, make them like what they find
‘Cause if you bomb like a nuclear warhead
You’ll be easy to boo and easier to forget
PRE-CHORUS
Restraining order or even less quarter?
Open arms or even bigger charms?
Come on back or get the fuck away?
Are you creepy or are you brave?
CHORUS
Creepy or brave? X4
BRIDGE
Talk the talk and walk the walk
Mock the mocked and stalk the stalk
They won’t reward your courage
They’ll leave your heart forever hurting
CHORUS
Creepy or brave? X4
FINAL VERSE
Nice tie, nice suit, nice Gucci shoes
Nice headshot all over the news
Are you ready to defend your life?
Or will you just roll over and die?
CHORUS
Creepy or brave? X4
March 23, 2019
It's Only Offensive When I Do It
It’s only offensive when I have a crush
I’m the only one with a reverse Midas touch
It’s only offensive when I crack a joke
It’s only funny when my dreams go up in smoke
It’s only offensive when I seek out friends
Rejection and turmoil never seem to end
It’s only offensive when I write my lines
I’m the only one worthy of a hundred dollar fine
Nothing about my lonely life is ordinary
The blood on my hands is not sanitary
I don’t look like you, I don’t talk like you
I’m the only one with a shit-load to prove
It’s only offensive when I take a stand
My painful screams echo across the land
It doesn’t matter anyways, nobody hears me
Everybody in this world fucking fears me
I’m a walking weapon of mass destruction
Who’s in desperate need of liposuction
Never once mastered the art of seduction
Never once needed a proper introduction
I sold my soul to the devil, the underworld level
My favorite escape is hard rock and heavy metal
I don’t need to contribute to your society
I’ll keep building my dreams ever so quietly
It’s only offensive when I’m the one who does it
So offensive it brings the world to destruction
Socially awkward is the name of my game
Everything else would be too fucking tame
I’m the only one with a reverse Midas touch
It’s only offensive when I crack a joke
It’s only funny when my dreams go up in smoke
It’s only offensive when I seek out friends
Rejection and turmoil never seem to end
It’s only offensive when I write my lines
I’m the only one worthy of a hundred dollar fine
Nothing about my lonely life is ordinary
The blood on my hands is not sanitary
I don’t look like you, I don’t talk like you
I’m the only one with a shit-load to prove
It’s only offensive when I take a stand
My painful screams echo across the land
It doesn’t matter anyways, nobody hears me
Everybody in this world fucking fears me
I’m a walking weapon of mass destruction
Who’s in desperate need of liposuction
Never once mastered the art of seduction
Never once needed a proper introduction
I sold my soul to the devil, the underworld level
My favorite escape is hard rock and heavy metal
I don’t need to contribute to your society
I’ll keep building my dreams ever so quietly
It’s only offensive when I’m the one who does it
So offensive it brings the world to destruction
Socially awkward is the name of my game
Everything else would be too fucking tame
March 20, 2019
Lingerie
CHORUS 1
I’m going to dress you up in women’s lingerie
In women’s lingerie, in women’s lingerie
I’m going to dress you up in women’s lingerie
In the most delightful way
VERSE 1
Make you look sexier than Dita Von Teese
Because every beauty needs their own beast
Nothing wrong with public humiliation
See if you’re worth sixty second masturbation
CHORUS 2
I’m going to dress you up in women’s underwear
In women’s underwear, in women’s underwear
I’m going to dress you up in women’s underwear
I don’t even give a care
VERSE 2
Make you look sexier than Scarlett Bordeaux
Make you the star of your own smoke show
Wrap my hands around your neck when it’s over
Leave you in the streets with a post-mortem odor
CHORUS 1 & 2
I’m going to dress you up in women’s lingerie
In women’s lingerie, in women’s lingerie
I’m going to dress you up in women’s lingerie
In the most delightful way
I’m going to dress you up in women’s underwear
In women’s underwear, in women’s underwear
I’m going to dress you up in women’s underwear
I don’t even give a care
VERSE 3
Make you look like a fool just like you did me
Make them laugh their heads off so wild and free
Maybe my methods are a little too extreme
Maybe I’m giving into my weirdest dreams
Maybe I need to see a shrink or a priest
Take a bite of wafer cookies like the final feast
Maybe I need to tone this down a little bit
Then again, I really don’t give a fucking shit!
CHORUS 1 & 2
I’m going to dress you up in women’s lingerie
In women’s lingerie, in women’s lingerie
I’m going to dress you up in women’s lingerie
In the most delightful way
I’m going to dress you up in women’s underwear
In women’s underwear, in women’s underwear
I’m going to dress you up in women’s underwear
I don’t even give a care
I’m going to dress you up in women’s lingerie
In women’s lingerie, in women’s lingerie
I’m going to dress you up in women’s lingerie
In the most delightful way
VERSE 1
Make you look sexier than Dita Von Teese
Because every beauty needs their own beast
Nothing wrong with public humiliation
See if you’re worth sixty second masturbation
CHORUS 2
I’m going to dress you up in women’s underwear
In women’s underwear, in women’s underwear
I’m going to dress you up in women’s underwear
I don’t even give a care
VERSE 2
Make you look sexier than Scarlett Bordeaux
Make you the star of your own smoke show
Wrap my hands around your neck when it’s over
Leave you in the streets with a post-mortem odor
CHORUS 1 & 2
I’m going to dress you up in women’s lingerie
In women’s lingerie, in women’s lingerie
I’m going to dress you up in women’s lingerie
In the most delightful way
I’m going to dress you up in women’s underwear
In women’s underwear, in women’s underwear
I’m going to dress you up in women’s underwear
I don’t even give a care
VERSE 3
Make you look like a fool just like you did me
Make them laugh their heads off so wild and free
Maybe my methods are a little too extreme
Maybe I’m giving into my weirdest dreams
Maybe I need to see a shrink or a priest
Take a bite of wafer cookies like the final feast
Maybe I need to tone this down a little bit
Then again, I really don’t give a fucking shit!
CHORUS 1 & 2
I’m going to dress you up in women’s lingerie
In women’s lingerie, in women’s lingerie
I’m going to dress you up in women’s lingerie
In the most delightful way
I’m going to dress you up in women’s underwear
In women’s underwear, in women’s underwear
I’m going to dress you up in women’s underwear
I don’t even give a care
Island Zealot
A mismatch from the very beginning
There never really was any winning
Nothing in common but our biology
Brought together through technology
I could show you my CD collection
The heaviest hard rock connection
I could show you my shelves of books
Obscure titles with exciting hooks
You could pet my elderly kitty cat
Earn head bumps and purrs just like that
We could talk about power to the people
And try to pretend everything is equal
We could play with my chest of Legos
Make them fight right from the get-go
I could write you a poem or story
That’ll leave your soul freely soaring
We could go for a walk to stuff our faces
With so much food from different places
But it was never really meant to be
I’m an island zealot, but what does it mean?
It means I’m the only one in this room
Who follows my own interests to my doom
I can’t share them with you, you don’t care
You cut me down with a confused stare
All you cared about was my profile picture
Could your shallow intentions get any sicker?
You’d leave me once the beauty fades away
I’m sorry, but I didn’t come here to play
My hair and eyes are my best features, I’m told
But a handsome profile doesn’t equal pure gold
I need someone to be my very best friend
Give it to me or this conversation will end
I don’t need new hobbies or interests, honey
Don’t need a billion dollars worth of hush money
I’m good enough to be my own fucking man
I’m sorry I don’t fit into your devious plans
There never really was any winning
Nothing in common but our biology
Brought together through technology
I could show you my CD collection
The heaviest hard rock connection
I could show you my shelves of books
Obscure titles with exciting hooks
You could pet my elderly kitty cat
Earn head bumps and purrs just like that
We could talk about power to the people
And try to pretend everything is equal
We could play with my chest of Legos
Make them fight right from the get-go
I could write you a poem or story
That’ll leave your soul freely soaring
We could go for a walk to stuff our faces
With so much food from different places
But it was never really meant to be
I’m an island zealot, but what does it mean?
It means I’m the only one in this room
Who follows my own interests to my doom
I can’t share them with you, you don’t care
You cut me down with a confused stare
All you cared about was my profile picture
Could your shallow intentions get any sicker?
You’d leave me once the beauty fades away
I’m sorry, but I didn’t come here to play
My hair and eyes are my best features, I’m told
But a handsome profile doesn’t equal pure gold
I need someone to be my very best friend
Give it to me or this conversation will end
I don’t need new hobbies or interests, honey
Don’t need a billion dollars worth of hush money
I’m good enough to be my own fucking man
I’m sorry I don’t fit into your devious plans
