As the official representative for conforming source for a better society, I must remind you the tenents of being a valuable citizen. Take your vitamins. Whiten your teeth. Sharpen the edge. Comb your hair. Don't slouch. Watch you tongue. Believe in God. Obey the law. Don't cry, by now. Never live. Never try. Never feel. Never lie. Love the day. Fear the night. Do as we say. Obey. Obey. Ooooobeeeey We'll bury our mistakes. We'll burn the remains, the piling corpses and ritual flames smothering out any shadow of doubt. Don't bother thinking we'll do it for you. You see, I have really weird days, and really good days and I have really, really, really bad days. But the authorities have assured me never to fear That they'll soon have me cured. Just fill this prescription: take this pill, take the sting, take your meds to help your head. And I did. But things still seem to hurt me. I take my meds to help my head, but things still seem to hurt me. I take my meds to help my head, but things still seem to hurt. There are several things I'd like to do before the exothermic oxidation decides to consume my soul of hungry ghosts. I would like to fuck a supermodel, every night, for six consecutive weeks. I want to lead an ancient army into battle. I want to sleep on a bed, blanketed with the skin of my enemies. I want to own a nation. I wanna be crucified on a mesquite tree, and resurrected three days later. I wanna negotiate a multi billion dollar deal in a board room on the six hundreds and sixty sixth floor. In downtown Manhattan, or Wallstreet, or Taiwan Or some other metropolis that's just feeding off of it's consumer fetishes. I wanna fight as a gladiator in the ancient Rome. I wanna pleasure the innocence out of four willing wonderful women in a sacred sex ceremony of blood and flesh. I wanna capture the heart of a brilliant, decadent, wonderful artist and never give it back. I wanna finally find thinkers, believers, seekers, those who are sick of living this mundane social identity of everyday waking to put on the same cultural costume, just so. The others won't look at this differently. I wanna finally realise the honor, the power, and the perfect opportunity I have of being locked away in this damaged, beautifully flawed, skin prison. Hi, listen um why dont you just have a seat and umm, no really just sit down, stay calm. What i have to tell you is quite upsetting, for you. ha ha. See, last night i took your girl, or maybe it was your wife, into my mouth like she was a communion wafer offered out by a smiling beguiling pope to an honest sinner. Her body is bread, cleansed my sins in a sweet greasy feast that will never ever cease to amaze me. I ate her for hours listening to her cries for help. Swallowed, tasted, enjoyed, digested, and then shat back on the blankets into coma-sleep. Did she tell you? Did she speak of this? Her terror for once enjoying herself? Did she describe the beautiful steam, the scratching, the touching, the pulling, the sucking? Did she tell you i buried my fingers in her deep enough to cause pregnancy? Did she explain the rhythm, mmm the pulse, the gathering climax? Did she pretend not to care but you could see it in her eyes? Did she giggle a little about being canniballized? Did she tell you that? Did she? No? ha. Well she smelled like fresh melon and ocean air, I could tell you that.