Let's let.Let's commit a hypocrisy.Let's fuck the world together.Let's commit an atrocity.I refuse to believe that my fate lies in the hand of any other man besides me.Why should I?God. Maybe yes.But God is such an abstract idea like love that its hard to believe in either all the time.Let's die for today,and live tomorrow.Or let's live today,and die tomorrow.Either way, death's inevitable. So why fear it? Let's face it.Let's sing and dance,and fuck life by chance.Let's say that there are no chances,there is no luck, there is no fate,but only Man.And Man is destiny, and Man is chance,and Man is fate, and Man is luck.Let's not believe we are powerless.Let's just pretend, for your god's sake, let's just pretend that man exists.That man is a man and not a puppet.Let's just decide. Decide today. What is real and what is not?Is god? Is life? Is consciousness or dream reality?Let's cry, and let it all out, I say.Let's cry, and let it all out.To be or not to be,that never was
Just the CocaineJust the CocaineI used to believe it,when you'd saythat you loved me;now I realize it wasjust the cocaine talking.
Four years.I was nine when they left me, when my best friend became my father, when the cancer got bad and I had to learn how to cook and clean and tuck myself into bed at night.I was nine when my mother quit her job, and began spending every hour she had in the hospital, when my father began breaking promises and changing rules and getting lost on the highway because the hospital was the only place he knew.I was nine when I understood what it meant to grow up too quickly, when they pulled me out of my classroom to tell me she was dying, when I realized that losing my sister would end more lives than one.I was thirteen when they decided they could save her.I was thirteen when they took her apart, piece by piece, and put her back together again, whole.I was thirteen when they brought her home, breathing and smiling and laughing like little girls should, when her favorite color was green, when she talked so fast, when she wrote me stories and plays and songs, when she wanted to be an astronaut
In MemoriamBlack smoke spirals high into the sky,Like demonic fingers reaching to grab the clouds.Ash descends like fiery rainOnto the sidewalks of New York City.An explosion is heard,And Tower number two is hit.The planes had driven their wings into the Twin Towers,And the terrorists drove their stakes into the hearts of Americans.People stood and watched,As their loved ones became trapped,And it seemed like there was no hopeFor survival.An earth-shattering noise,And Tower Two collapsed.Dust and debris swirled in a suffocating tornado;Endangering those who were around.People cried and ran,For they knew people in the Tower.Another horrifying noise,And Tower One came down too.Now there was nothing left but rubble,And the time it took to clear it away.Now I stand on the edge of Ground ZeroJust ten short years later.The chilling ghosts of the bravest voices in historyEcho softly around the site.The pain we've endured over the course of these yearsIs permanently etched into