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1. The Happy Victim's Creed

Clot-brained cogwheel in the sheets
Turns and sweats and makes his lists
Drug-dream-wracked reprobate creeps
Towards the daylight’s tasks in heaps

Pearl-zenithed walking zit
Makes his home where he can fit
Shops around for flavored swill
Earns new ulcers with that shit

What oils lubricate his lust?
What libels lurk in songs he loves?
What lord commodifies his trust?

He don’t know much but he knows this
You take your cut where you can find it

Drinksop spirit drowns the past
He just wanted to do his best
But trying only wore him thin
Fuck off, you didn’t live through any of this

Prideful inmate sworn to stress
Bares his teeth at disrespect
Freedom’s a real pretty word
Take the options you can get

He chants the happy victim’s creed:
Let distraction succor me
And polish all my edges down
‘Til I am smooth and blank as stone
To better fill my given role

Make me what I am
Make me the servant I was born to be

2. The Invisible Hand Holds A Whip

The numbers keep running
Somewhere I can’t follow
To redacted transcripts
And data-rich shadows

Oh, I can feel the hands on me
They labor with loving efficiency
To carve away pounds of my flesh
As they comfort me:
“This is how it’s supposed to be”

The sources in conflict
Revised and provisional
The havens offshore
The funding’s untraceable
But someone’s getting paid
And everyone’s got a theory

Oh, I can feel the hands on me
Pointing me towards the ones I should hate
Don’t tell’em the maths got minds of their own
They want backs to walls
And blame always finds a home

This isn’t what they promised me
Their tide won’t lift me back to my feet
Nickels and dimes weighing me down
And plenty of ocean for me to breathe

Ten thousand lashes for our sins
Don’t know what I’ve lost but I feel it missing
Each voice for itself in this chorus of fools
The future’s a coda, we’re singing the blues
And stealing our notes from the bank of dreams
Whose vaults echo deaf as the tune runs astray

Our number’s up
We all gotta pay

3. Goat Mockery Ritual

$30 cover for the khaoss magick live ritual
Not Nazis, just into the aesthetic
Library of forbidden lore purchased on Amazon
(For this pleases the Dark Lord)

Doing real evil sure seems risky
And like it might require a suit and tie
Better to trust time-tested theatrics
Ancient sacraments passed down from the ‘80s

Oh, it’s the old rot of Rome
Dolled up in goat horns and a gas mask
And croakin’ out turgid liturgies
I got your old-time religion right here

Crypto-Christian cheerleaders
Root, root, root for the losing team
Better start picking up hours
Thousands to spend on robes and costumery
The hordes won’t show if your look ain’t fancy

The greatest trick the devil ever pulled
Was convincing you saps
That ‘observe the dress code’
Shall be the whole of the Law

Incant thy prayer to pseudo-profundity
Inverted crosses confess thy pontiff envy

Menacing gibberish covers for hollowness
Bestial blasphemic nunrape nonsense
The beast as described by D&D
(For this pleases the Dark Lord)

Clownpainted priest garbed for mummery
Casts charm of +5 protection against women and minorities
But keeps it down, mindful of sales
Best to maintain a dead language smokescreen

Ave Satanas, ave domini inferi
Polire hunc stercorum et tu non potes

4. Tennessee

They took more than time from you
Down in Tennessee
Where the land rolls rusted
And kudzu strangles the trees in green
Deformed like you by medicinal bonds
Blameless but shrouded in shame

They gave you more than bruises
Down in Tennessee
Where the mountains loom lumpen
Some storm-cursed earthen sea

Root-sewn to your bed
Where sweat stained wood and stone
Your shrinks sentenced you to labor in the loam
Tending the falsehoods you’d carry back home

They held you down
And peeled ripelike back
The curl-crested crown of a child
Planted their alien seeds
Cruel furrows in trusting clay

And we blessed those bastards
For the nostrums they sold us
The prayers they passed off as your cure

Your work raised you from that riverbank hell
Where out of love we damned you to dwell

Take pride in the scars they carved in you
For in their depths, a secret strength grew
Unbowed it abides inside
As you forge your faraway life

That strange iron guide you dragged up
From beneath the hills down in Tennessee
Where the land rolls rusted
And kudzu strangles the trees in green

5. Trash Talk Landfill

Talk comes real cheap
Expend and dispose, expend and dispose
These days, it’s what I live to do

Oh, I know this junk is tacky
But it’s what I’ve got to offer
I’ll just keep on spitting out more litter
It’ll heap up in disposable drifts
Some poor fucks will sort through it in shifts

Believe me, there’s more where that came from

Where can I buy budget words to describe
The awful hole that gapes inside
Me, and just keeps growing, growing, growing
As I pour in more and more plastic metaphors

You know you’re gonna keep on reading
This shit, lightweight and stripped of the meaning
It once wrapped up, ‘til I used it all up
Now it’s dross, compacted in metonym clumps

And all this waste comes straight from my waist
I’m shitting out tons and tons of this garbage every year
Dumped logotoxins leach into the groundwater
I’ll make every ear my sewer

It’s all trash talk, trash talk, trash talk
Throw me on the pile
No deposit for recycle
One use only

And all that offal is crawling
Back up through the plumbing
It’s clambering out
Of the landfills and rivers

My filth children will wander
While I spawn more, and wonder
Why these refuse similes
All sound so incomplete

6. The Unraveling Part I: Hegemony Of Grasping Fears

Surrender grows in you slow
Its tiny grasping hairs filling the empty holes
Clotted and stiff, you wonder how you bloated so wide

The screens buzz hot in darkened rooms
Where resentment made a home of you
For the rest of its life, the rest of your life

Dumb drone lodged, rudderless in time
Fearful and thick, sclerotic and blind

The lifesore dam leaks above town
At home, your hands divide your gut
Deluded that some deeper trench
Could cure neglect, forestall the flood

The old rules slump like stricken trees
And all your hatreds burst to light
The little hairs that clog your heart
The little hairs wriggle inside

The systems unwind in glorious real time
Nothing is real, and everything is fine
It’s a new world, you have your pick of lies

Your hallowed despair birthed no insight
Just lust for the heel turn, the bully’s glib spite

You know it’s shit
But we’re all taking a bite
You don’t need consent
A few precious organs quit, the whole body dies

The hour grows late
And the blade nestles shy
To await your throat’s final complaint

7. The Unraveling Part II: Free At Last

This is a firsthand account
Of a culture committing suicide
The unraveling scream
Of the precious shared bonds
As we wrench free
Of their grip on our lives

8. The Unraveling Part III: Live From The Fresh Corpse

Death’s release: just one more scam
Peer through your lifeless blue-veined hands
And watch the parasites rush in
To make a buck off your old carbon

Throwing up their pipelines
Across miles of ruined skin
Refining down your empty flesh
For nutrients and oxygen
Pinstripe-shrouded maggots seize
And monetize your memories

Oh, it’s too fucking sad
We gave up what we had
All that life, wasted on the living
And we, the dreamers, lost to the dream

9. Empty Tenement Spirit

It thrusts against the sky, that fallow womb
While the waters we raised lap its lurid weight

In these austere halls
The generations echo unlived,
Their laughter muted, their tears unshed

On these pristine walls and barren floors,
A silent perfection that no one will witness,
No one can access

These honeycomb cells house tenants, too
The churn of the sea, the rippling heat
And the private stillnesses of corpseless tombs

Down in the drowned boiler room
Some cold soul stirs
It turns in its lonely repose
To recall memories it never birthed

Who would mourn them, those pinioned fools
Now spared their sorry fate:
To subsist on the bitter fruit
That passes for survival, in these vile final days?

The dead-end jobs and the chronic aches
The food that sallows, and the jokes from the gallows
The cry-choked air and the fat-cloaked bones
The poisons to love, and the leaders to hate
The grey lives endured with purposeless grace

What wild spirit could thrive on such pain?
What primal will would cling to this place?

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