Seven , eight, nine, ten,
Bite your mother fuckin collar bone, right to the bone.
Past the flesh, past the tendons, veins stuck between the teeth and pulling back.
Just a feeling. And if I’m in a crowd and I’m in a mood, perhaps the thought pries in
“A bomb could kill them all”
Even getting into the mechanics of it,
A well placed bomb, a well designed bomb, ifffffffff
If I put my mind to it?
Maybe, those skills are a natural talent, initiating device, primer, shrapnel etc.
I don’t do that.
I don’t put my mind into such things, the thought just passes by,
Misplaced anger, misanthropy , “people hatin’”
It’s fine, not real at all, just a thought, never would I ever.
(But if you did…)
That doesn’t matter.
Life does have a sanctity to it, disobey that and what happens?
Probably nothing, there’s probably no God to judge you after death, and that one dude in Las Vegas, shooting up a country music concert before turning the gun on himself?
Jesus dude, I thought I hated rednecks, you took it to another level, exited this bitch with a body count.
How does it make you feel?
Knowing those types are out there?
I still don’t flinch, this mother fucker crazy and most been knowing that shit, if you don’t?
You should, this mother fucker crazy.
And evil is real, but it’s a seed, it’s a single point in time implanted into the psyche.
It’s a person out there, walking around muttering to themselves
(It’s all bad..)
Feels that way sometimes, sure, Jesus ain’t there for you and nobody gives a fuck.
But the next spot? The next milestone on your journey?
Evil is real, and so is good,
If you care to rest in your grave as a bitch ass mother fucker, that’s on you, not me.
Stand before that indifferent ass universe, weigh your worth, see what’s up.
Sunshine comes through and whisper through the shade
(Not so bad)
Maybe, maybe even more,,,
Maybe it’s a joy to be alive and we are statistically impossible.
Now what you want to do with it?
Waste? Fritter?
Soak up, enjoy, be grateful ,
you dumb fuck, fucking clown, be amazed,
Far too easy , too easy to look around and feel sadness. Tip of the tongue, right at the fingertips
dawn 