Terror Management Theory (demo)
Freak folk life destruction
I have to create music. I write and record the music I want to listen to. When I finish an album I give copies away for free. Hopefully someone finds something in it that they think is important too.
Lyrics
Simplification of all that is human, personifications devised
Satan is just the urge of the animal, god is the pain, god is the lies
Self-ordained, delusional, the standard-bearer tries,
to sell me redemption, damnation exemption, his own self-hating eyes
you wonder why I poison myself, my mental and spiritual health
I'm managing my terror with my chemical wealth
A Tango. Mary. Tango. tree has writing on it's leaves:
tapestries of opiates and methoxetamine,
my eyes benzodiaze-panning, asking what ampheta means
(what does it mean). . .
The corporate crusades, this is the holy war they wage
against sacreligious me, and the carbon circles I believe in
you only have their loyalty if your the highest number
marching two, four, six, eight: pillage and rape.
Of course I've got the good stuff, all the wants I need
all the need I want to buy it shiny new next week.
of course I've got the good stuff, there's no other way to be
luxury is destiny which manifests in me.
Every house surrounded by a perfect green.
There's so much to be said about a man who keeps his lawn clean.
He's the king of summer, he's not bothered by the heat.
His SUV's AC is cool, four-wheel drive into the pool.
White flight towns give me up-tight fright.
I'm terrified.
I'm stumbling, falling, and hitting the ground.
My brain becomes saturated with the sound
of my cantus firmus, taunted like a playground song
by a million alternate versions of me,
and every last one found a way to succeed.
Invited or not, they always show up
countless reminders I'm f*** ing it up.
My Terror Management Theory is the horror of reality.
(Terror Management Theory)
It won't tickle or hurt when we're turned into dirt,
nature will compost my soft human brain,
no graveyards or church, just a hole and some dirt.
