A set of my lyrics

1. Bury My Love

F**k all the life
Out of me,
Making me squirt
All my pride and ambitions.
Give me a drink
Which is flavored with lies,
Turning my weakness
To your ammunition.
Then shove your dick
Into my throat -
My being helpless
Will bring you orgasms.
Tasting your juice
Will just hurt me much more
If someone else tastes your lips,
Once so pleasant.

So go on, kill the one you saved,
Reveal the other me to try her.
To me you'll always be the same -
You're both my king and prey.
My prey!

Bury this love,
Living in me,
Bury my freedom
And bury my power.
Rape me and simply
Forget about me,
Use like a w***e
And fade in an hour.
Don't satisfy
My thirst for love,
As LOve and luST
Mean just LOST.
Well, you know.
Take me right now,
It will be quite enough.
Then fade away.
It's the end of the show.

So go on, kill the one you saved,
Reveal the other me to try her.
To me you'll always be the same -
You're both my king and prey.
My prey!

Follow your instincts
And bury my feelings.
This has been been meaningless
From the beginning!

So go on, kill the one you saved,
Reveal the other me to try her.
To me you'll always be the same -
You're both my king and prey.
My prey!

2. Tomorrow's Exceptional Hero

Dissolve all your pride in your misery, guys!
It's only your pathos that shines in your eyes.
Your words are important just devil knows where,
Your mirth in the voice is a sign of despair.
You've never seen life, as you've been colorblind;
It's painted by poets in all undertones
While you label things just as black or as white.
Your black is opposed to the world of your own.
If difference frightens you, you're the crowd,
There's nothing your hopeless days are about.
You're models of somebody's system, you're clones,
You're always together, forever alone.

The crowd is such a deceptive protection,
The crowd is moving in just one direction.
It's moving nowhere, the speed's minus zero.
It's our tomorrow's exceptional hero!
 
The sun in your world still can warm you at night,
But nothing will ever be f*****g all right!
Work, family, pub, sleep... Then count to ten -
You'll see the same picture again and again.
You can't change the rules, so you change decorations,
You're frightened of getting to your one true core.
You, slaves, could be kings - you are human creations,
By concept a bit of a muse and a w***e,
A thinker, a painter, a soul to admire
As well as a wreck, a destroyer, a liar,
An actor sometimes, or the truth with a guile -
Still better than your hypocritical smile!
Your credo is envy, the reason you fail.
Our world is a pedestal, yours is a jail.

The crowd is such a deceptive protection,
The crowd is moving in just one direction.
It's moving nowhere, the speed's minus zero.
It's our tomorrow's exceptional hero!
Is it?

3. Life Story

She's out in the rain, on the verge of despair.
The smoke is twirling in fresh autumn air,
Ten cigarettes stand for three-four minutes each.
She's waiting for him - he is out of reach.
At last he shows up: "Hey, I'm sorry I'm late",
She sighs with relief. What a wonderful date!
He looks like a tramp, and she looks like a w***e.
A flawless match. They accept and adore
The real each other with no pretending.
But if they could simply imagine the ending!

Some casual sex, brandy, vodka and weed -
The days of the youth. They are perfect with it.
The twenties will bring unforgettable nights,
Mash notes and roses. She'll be mesmerized
Unless one damned ring is the end of the end -
Routine will ruin their castles of sand.

Today she is only the pride of his pride,
A bit of fluff. Sex? Well, they two never mind.
But they are the victims you can't really blame -
Tomorrow this story will have a new name.
They'll have their freedom eroded by oaths
Of love, so pristine. I'm sick of them both!
It's time to grow up if it's not way too late -
The concept of love stands for fear and fate.
Love is alcohol multiplied by their tears,
The number of both will increase in some years.

Some casual sex, brandy, vodka and weed -
The days of the youth. They are perfect with it.
The twenties will bring unforgettable nights,
Mash notes and roses. She'll be mesmerized
Unless one damned ring is the end of the end
Routine will ruin their castles of sand.

Ten years have passed, she is still in despair.
She lies in their bed, breathing close heavy air.
Ten cigarettes stand for three-four minutes each.
She's waiting for him - he is out of reach.
He shows up drunk in his torn baggy clothes,
She leers at him. What a night for them both!
She looks like an ugly and worn-out w***e.
They're no more able to love and adore
The real each other with no pretending.
But they had a way to escape from this ending.

4. The Extremes

She's wearing a plait and a plain floral dress,
Her skin is so pale, and her fringe is a mess.
She can't link three words in the simplest phrase,
And ignorance left dirty marks on her face.
Her look is so frightened, her thoughts are a dump,
She's shallow, naive, indecisive and numb.
She won't ever part with her old silver cross,
The symbol of nothing aside from her loss
Of I-do-create-my-own-destiny power.
Poor thing, she's still waiting for her fatal hour.

He's wearing piercings and torn baggy jeans,
He's now in his twenties, but looks like a teen.
He's always in fight with those two shameless queers,
Who play homo-love right in front of their peers.
Turn back, and you'll see lady-like prostitutes,
In both the word's meanings. Well, look at that dude!
He's ready to take them, two ones at a time,
And rape them. Oh, wait, it does sound like a crime.
I'm smiling at them while I'm passing them by,
Continuing singing this song in my mind.

I'm so sick of living among this gray mass,
Where everyone claims to be always the best.
The philistine's life is so tragic and dim,
It's walking in circles between the extremes.

The weak stick to models, sometimes till the end.
Religion, street-walking just drive me dement!
The list could go on. It's the same boring theme.
And fighters are always beyond the extremes.

I'm so sick of living among this gray mass,
Where everyone claims to be always the best.
The philistine's life is so tragic and dim,
It's walking in circles between the extremes.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Again the story is sad and powerful. We feel we won. Even when we swim in s**t.You are a talented writer. I hope you have opportunities to do great things.
Coyote

[Arthur Henn]

Wow... Powerful stuff. You are very talented.
So much to take in,
but this is reality and you did well writing about it.

April, You have a distinct style.

[bob, small b. aka invs]

this is a little much to take in all at once. would it be possible for you to post each song/poem seperately? it would make it easier to comment on them.