UNFINISHED SONG - CONTRIBUTION NEEDED! - I.E COLLAB!

Drown me in the flames,
Push me into the burning mass,
I'm made of plastic anyway,
No pain befalls my skin,
I have no next-of-kin.

Poke me with the stokes you use,
Sheer the skin up off my back,
My skin was meant to disintegrate,
I'm in this shithole of putrid hate.

It wreaks. the ground the damned dirty ground, yes it wreaks (x2)

Over-zealous cheeky fucks,
Teens in hoodies taking drugs,
Purgatory's great,
A not-so-achievable fate.

[INCOMPLETE!]

Butchered By Sanity

A warm bosom, is what you crave,
Not your mother's, she despised you,
Your fantasy for delicate virginal female,
A depraved childhood leaves you no choice,
Stranded in the silent cacophony,
The only music in your head.

What you once sought is now an image,
That is slowly disappearing,
Behind your mind's eye,
Shut out from the world as you might be,
A monster you have become from within.

You once revered me,
You once sought me,
You once exalted me,
And now... Now you Castigate me.

Spearing the world with your words,
That seem to fall on untrodden path,
Disappearing in the whispers of the wind,
Where nothing and no one bother to go,
Fallen from Grace you have indeed.

Your ties, severed with your mind,
And Insanity plays no fault,
It's sanity that has butchered you,
Cut you up, chewed you up and spat you out
Leaving nothing but pieces of what once was.

You once revered me,
You once sought me,
You once exalted me,
And now... Now you Castigate me.

You can't see beyond the reaches of yourself,
Consumed by devilish cravings,
You've torn down the barriers,
Between what you tried to maintain, and me,
And you've torn me...torn me up beyond reprieve.

No self-redemption is worth trying for,
You know what you are (an empty soul) and
What you were is no more,
Tossed about by blatant lies,
You've torn me up...torn me up inside.

You once revered me,
You once sought me,
You once exalted me,
And now... Now you Castigate me
With hands, with hands so bloody.

xx
-M Pap- (Sunday, 31 August 2008)

PRETEND

i'd like one of them pretty masquerade masks
unique and exquisite
one of every colour
one for each season

but i can't afford them
they're too expensive and too exquisite
far too nice and far too glam
for my face that seems to be disintegrating

so i walk with the pulsing crowd
feeling part of it
but still afraid of it
of who i am

so i like to pretend
so i play with my mind
and other peoples' too
and it makes me happy

but just for a while
just for a while
it saves me time
it saves me time

but i really only want one of them pretty masquerade masks
no reflection of who i am from any glass
no inkling of where i might've come from
just me and my pretty masquerade mask

but i can't afford one
no i can't afford one
so i play pretend
i play pretend.

-M Pap- (Friday, 30 May 2008)

A DIRTY OLD HAG AT THE LAUNDROMAT

fucking old hag
she's got a kitten under her right armpit
but you don't listen cuz she's a cripple
and you put in yo' penny to start it up
but she's gone and you stare
at an empty spot that was once there
afraid to fill it
too afraid you'll kill it
like you did before
all over again
all over again

and the whistle blows
and you're young and sweating
and you're a nancy
a faggot twisting
in starched pants
and you recieve a blow
from whats-his-name jo
and they strip you naked
and you don't care
cuz it's happening
all over again
all over again

and a pistol sounds
a whistle blares
in your ear
you're going deaf
you're an old hag
an old hag
smoking a lit fag
and you're alone
all over again
all over again

raging war
bloody battles
clarion calls
silver pikes
medallions
oh is it over?
or is it still going on
your mama's not hugging you
maybe it's not over?
your head is bursting
all over again
all over again

cat's piss
smell of rotting bodies
a leaky faucet
a broken nose
a thousand arms
reaching out at you
bulbs flashing
too many voices
your head hurts
all over again
all over again

it's the end of the line
and you want to start over
and you're lying in the bed
a hospital
dirty old man
wheezing beside you
you pick up your crowbar
beat him
and he bleeds oh he bleeds
all over again
all over again

soft music
melancholic sounds
drifting through
someone's playing Paganini
oh how you love Paganini.
smells are wafting
wafting through the air
a baker's shop
your polished shoes
who are you now?
are you rich?
are you different?
is it finally happening?
''no you stupid fuck''
someone spits on your shoes
all over again
all over again

but now you drift
you're a frivolous youth
stuck in what feels like
the mundane school-life
but you're alone
and away from chatter
it's peaceful
but far too dreamy to be solid
you're sated
and you float
where are you now?
who are you?
i don't care
i don't care
because it's not happening anymore.


all over again.
no more.

-M Pap- (Sunday, 11 May 2008)