I swear I’ll never sleep again, I am no man’s slave.
I wanted the fog to lift but I was living in a cloud.
Nostalgia is grinding the life from today.
The present always dies in future memories,
And King Me is killing me,
Cut wide open and bleeding to death for all to see.
Ask me why I hate, why I pray to see the nation that I love disintegrate,
And gladly give my life, that revolution regenerates.
In honour of the strife of those who died, in generations before your blood stained glory,
I reject you,
I deny you,
I defy you to continue,
Smite the shepherd.
And the sheep will be scattered.
Psychotherapist once claimed I had acute neurosis, well I only said a couple of words and he made his diagnosis. He said I can say whatever I what because I never chose this, so I spat, grinned and I looked and him and I blew him a Glasgow kiss, “look out now.”
Language is a heart’s lament, a weak attempt to circumvent the loneliness inherent in the search for permanence. All the future ghosts who scratch their names in wet cement, demeaning as they shout out at the emptiness: “Abstraction’s the stake between the anima and animus.” De-flesh the world, scourge of human destiny; Behold the world in other people, life is clarity.