S0nic lack of truth in a world built for art

An ode to the greatest time to live(die).

We all run from the sirens of time

Tripping over love filled landmines

Hold my hand; let me go

With you

To the end of everything we (don’t) know

Lets get lost; freeze in snow

Drown in rain

And melt in heat

Die in a crowd

Or live above clouds

We are a result of fighting time; fighting existence

 Doing lines with unbridled persistence

I want to get “fucked”

“Fucked” she screamed and plunged into a million dreams

On the edge of an off white void

Sits a man slightly annoyed

By his presence devoid

She no longer loves him; she never did

Everytime he is around her he subjugates her will to live

When she sees his ugly face two words appear: “never forgive”

People OD in dark corners of the earth

Well, its been worse (war)

But we fight a war on ourself; what for?

So we pretend that we like to be sore

Because society constantly slaps us around

So we may aswell fall in love with the sound

May aswell worship its bloody bruised ground

We are the rebels the outlaws the outcasts the psychos

Not living under the ancient fear of a rifle

New generation/new breed

New sensation/new disease

Chemicals spill out onto old pavements

Never hinting that we will have replacements

But who are we if not just our own self invasions

Praying for the wrath of Satan (“)

We look to empty bottles and empty bags

Empty models and empty f**s

Empty souls and empty goals

The reason we look for so much meaning is we realise the inherent emptiness of everything

So, we sin.

Faded sounds our hymn

Every day we lose more limbs

Every day we fall in love with him

With her.

Our prescription/ our affliction

Our submission/our addiction

Still running from the traditional sirens

Still running from the old tyrants

We are the sonicyouth

Devoid of truth

Full of meaning

Baby, hold me

Till I stop breathing

.