Machine oxygen

Snorting your confidence and drinking your appearance

It’s smoking your humor, and injecting your partner

Refuse the self abuse but you want an eye brow to rise

Be the sum of blended dimensions, deeper then all imaginations

Running low on excuses of exhaustion, and self destruction is easy

Look mom no hands on the steering wheel, miscalculated velocity

You run outta breath when you're free

You run outta gas when you get taken for a ride

Gas costs and is temporary but accessible

Breaths symbiosis and unnoticed but it's intended for all

A ride requires a road, a breath requires a flowers pulse

But our systems is filled with snorted confidence

Smoke humor, inject partners and drunken appearance

A car is simply filled with gas, it won’t go on anything else

Just like oxygen

By machines

Valentine was a fag

that hand that touched me, unmasks the cold shadow proximity falling from a building
she wants my arms around her, unmasks desire designed to make one endure lifes regin
the way she's says my name, unmasks the mutal disgust when need becomes desperation
and when she kissed me, unmasks the meer emboldened exsistance of serten attraction

then her rejection came, cloaks the obvious truth that is spoken silent by her part
that made belive independence, cloaks the fatal siren of summoning sentiments of heart
that shrug indifference , cloaks the small and happy mircale to artificial mellowdramas
the defying leassons, cloaks an unsolved equation that requiers even more answers


the only attractive cell is her heart, this free punishment makes omnibus poems
my arms have been around many yet i've feelt that familliar great distance,
i have looked some directly in the eyes for two seconds and felt closer
when i lay a foundation she adds me as a brick to her wall of imposter


all sterotypes dosent makes sense when faded into a climax ordeals
deception seems inprinted in women when the butterflies feels like bees
a vaccum theater in the subconscience constant searching for new dancepartners
the ingredient poetry lacks is explanation under the spotlight of trap formulas

cynism is a diffrent form of clarity, the patience i build from twofaced women
now think of the essential concept of valentine, imprisoned for his love misconception
who will rannsack my renaissance until next time my solace is finally drained
my shadow proximity ignores upcoming memories, leaving the old ones stained



to the new, old, same girls who have the ability to make me feel like playdo.
prove me wrong / cancerface
(interpretation on Henry rollins: "everything")

Moon sugar

Resident on cloud nine

With a anchor tied to my ankle

Pulling me back behind enemy line

Watched the constellations orgy

Woke up to the sunset

And got molested by reality

Everything I encounter takes breath away.

Cheating on my lungs with devious truth

Why breath when a body is built to decay

Made me fall in love every night,

Dumbt every morning for six billion strangers

Every day routine is a bummer of daylight

Struggling to find myself significant

When I kiss you my lips feels like bacon

Who’s the pig that makes me feel like a sloppy second

Free will is something within awareness

Here I build my woman

In a fashion that's less ferocious

Some openly kiss asses

Among remains of the new world

And some give oralsex fore the same matters

Why sink low to be formal

When intercourse true form

Is a passion of the nocturnal

At the break of dawn I break dawn face

The woman which I don’t wake up beside

Is the same one as it ever was, to erase

My sweet addiction, my moon sugar

Count your sheep or count your days

The highlight of the day it’s when it’s over

Written 2005/Cancerface

Raised fist pt:3

diverse proximity, yet distance is much more closer
let my candle

finally kindle,

eluminate all

for the better

dont need your oxygen to fill my lungs with your cumbustion
imminent adversity

to kill all competition

Push that transformer default off the edge.

The pieces will be picked up by men assembling a new logic

Change those words of yours

Change those words of yours

Change those words of yours

Raised fist pt:2

Ferocious by gentle touch, like scratching punk music

My hands tilt

to gesticulate

a instant

stur the conflict

Your palms have blood stains, and you want to shake my hand

Infect your infliction elsewhere;

pick on your own brand

Push that transformer default off the edge

The pieces will be picked up by men assembling a new logic

Change those words of yours

Change those words of yours

Change those words of yours

Raised fist pt:1

Break the monographs, mark of your affliction

It's ominous

to my nimbus

puts violence

in my spectrum

It dents perception that I worked so hard to achieve

The weather

is never

in favor

clouded what I believe

Push that transformer default off the edge

The pieces will be picked up by men assembling a new logic

Change those words of yours

Change those words of yours

Change those words of yours

The perfect soldier

there's a white flag coveerd with bullet holes
making an exempel to those who are not involved

-

the perfect soldier goes fishing because he´s unemployed
the unsafety on his rifle cant me moved because it´s rusty
his uniform is laying in the addict coverd in mold
he encourages his oldest son not to join the army

you cant find his fingerprints on his trigger
strictly strikt exterior but inside he feels missplaced
nor a collected decapited trophys from the perimider
he writes white lies in his letters for his beloved´s solace

dont show fear, keep his cohorts calm with chocolate bars
he feels that the military stole five years of his mid-twenties
keeping his sanity with cigarettes and postcards
and all he received back was a limp leg and bad memorys

not bragging to his friends about his armyservice or survival
he prefers to call it an obligation and not an honorable cause
and let´s his kids play cowboy and indian with his medel
exaggerated situation when strangers welcomes him home whit applause

-

there's a white flag coveerd with bullet holes
making an exempel to those who are not involved


The perfect soldier/Odes to the postmodern century 2004