11 August 2003

* slimemould *

this is the scum the dirt the shit
this is the heart I broke the skull I split
this isn't suicide it's bliss
this isn't real it's counterfit

I lie
I Fall
I drop
I fail
I drop
I fail
I fall
I lie

Alone and count
moments pass by
quiet rage - see cracks inside
inner being ripped out
left on dirty floorboard spill

I lie
I try
to fail
I drop
I fall
I try
to hide
I fail
I lie...

to myself just for kicks
my shins my neck it hurts
my eyes the light it burns
my spine buckles
my skin rips

I try
and lie
but fail
and fall
I count to ten
and try once more

mummy never loved me
daddy used to beat me
had retroactive junk adiction
was child prodigy
ran away from home
when daddy choked mummy to death
with still-born second-son remains in pickle-jar

met Kurdt Kobain in Seattle, shook his hand
shot up black tar in unison walmart parking lot
he showed me how to scream
I showed him my deformed foetus
he say cool

I cut
I lie
I sing
I scream
I lie
I cut
I scream
I sing

to feel external, on display
need audience to feel okay
so clap your hands and talk in praise
and maybe pain will go away
I turn my pockets inside-out
and talk in tongues
so I stand out
like sore thumb throbing
where I cut
myself to see that I still bleed

I count
I read
I dance
I bleed
I hear
I feel
I smell
I see

myself in future times have passed
I cannot hear through endless noise
and crazy people roam the streets
while others fill up hospitals
as casualties on war of senses
feel against the law
-disenchanted - disinfected
came to have my head inspected
you must speak up - I cannot hear
machinary corrupts the air
I always feel the need to talk
I always feel like such a dork...


Sure, I'll sign disclaimer
take three times a day? OK
I'll do anything to be well again...
Not frantic
caffiene pills
Pixie sticks

I push I pull I hang myself
I start to fail and feel but end.

(c) Adam Cheshire 2002