Στοίχοι: Sole. Bottle Of Humans. Suicide Song.

My phone rang, I converse with the busy signal
Why can't they let me die in pieces?
I don't want any more food or condolences, let my people go
Burn off this useless flesh and make meals of my pestilence
Lessons are my tournaquets
maybe I've seen too much and not had enough
Either way, this is my last entry forever
Please don't let my children read this

I was meditating when I wrote this
the first time by interrupted by my screaming walls
Hard to concentrate in my 7 x 12 cell
Everyone watching my every move
Even with these shrouds, I feel naked
The windows talk to me and tell me that I ought to leave
Only one way out the door, it's too risky
Someone might not see me, be careful

We used to paint, the canvas made me feel alive
Oh how they marveled at the spectacle I made of myself
I made it for them, but it was really communication to conjure up through
Forever immortalized, carbon dioxide chokes me
and I fear no man but my shadow
There are a lot of things I've learned not to say outloud
If my parents were still alive, they'd still be proud

Sometimes I imagine myself as a loss
The leftover remains of a cast-away god
If I'm homeless, there's no Earth
Someday I'll be famous, and you can put that on my birth
My word is worth the demons that raped my being childhood, didn't happen
I was made as this, my walking prison
Guarded by my life on a limb, mood swings
Enjoying my whim, take it for what it seems and much more
Must find maker, how am I? and who did I?
And how did I wake up on this bench covered in mud?

Taking a shower won't aleve my stress
I can't even lift my brush to paint my long-awaited good-bye
Yet I'm feeling optimistic, relatively
this is my testimony and it tests the past miserably
Why do I keep dying in public places?
The medication should take two hours to take affect
But last time, I was killed eating my last meal
It's embarassing and I die inside

This is my favorite rock
I come here to think about all the things that make me
This is my favorite poem
I wrote this before I died last time
These are my favorite friends
they don't talk much and probably aren't even listening
This is my favorite place
so I hope that I don't last here too long

The other night, I was doing my everyday things
trying to find a girl to take to my apartment
She's beautiful and clearly cares for me
She likes my work, and wants to understand what fuels my art
We lay side-by-side
happy knowing that there was only thirty minutes left of this to endure
She spoke typical things and gave of herself freely
I started freaking out as I convulsed during oral sex
Concerned for me, she held me
and I laugh at those tears, for a while

The next day, I was still dead and she had joined me
How honest I recall of how she gave of herself freely
As I drank my orange juice, I began to study all of her beauty
We danced and made love for hours
Talked about important things and how our children would grow up and die also
And how futile it was until we finally fell in love
I'll never be alone again and she will never leave me

I've forgotten why I write these things down
Even as I write this
I'm realizing how useless it is to put ideas to words
water to wine, stupidity and valor
The streetlights I pray to and the gutters I fish in
My wife is no longer good at sex, her body doesn't speak to me
and I'm getting sick of her attitude
There's other fish in the sea
and I haven't stopped breathing for three days
I hope everything is alright