---

Millions of miles of ethereal walls

No!

They're fucking solid, I can touch them

Live them – breathe them – the morbid consolidation could kill me

I can't fix nothing but the present

But I'm not a new lord Byron

The call of love/the impulse of retirement

Retaliation/annihilation

Hiding from the world...

Is this the only solution?

I'm not a clichéd screamer of banal "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

I'm the first surrender

Cut your veins – cut your veins – cut your veins

And clean up this fucked up society

And there'll be a new dead winner to idolize: why?

Alone with the benefit of doubt

Meditating if it could be anathema

The morbid-putrid-rotting laying in a presumed self-consciousness

"Presumed" rhymes with "re-exhumed"

And that self-consciousness is the new device

To get a new, brilliant smile...

Smile me and I'll easily smash your teeth!

But don't worry, I won't do it

'cause I'm too busy to dig in my own private Hell

Call it will to kill

Call it deviant madness

I like defining it "will to kick asses"

That unsane instinct dominates

Falling into the abyss of euphoria

Drunk of those poisoned waters

New sick worms are devouring my guts

And here I come in a new purest form

Far from every standard image

Standard condition, standard infliction

But in a standard failure...

Brilliant like a Looney Tune

Sicker than Freddy Krueger

Opened to tolerance like Gandhi

Victim of the circumstances like a presumed killer

...what the hell I need?