Concave Eats Convex

Angst is a graveyard neighboring the trash heap
In the gated communities of backwards birth
And beyond the allegorical amniotic fluids
There are hoards of day laborers working for the "privilege"
of an American Nightmare
Dying in the ravines of our subconsciousness
More awake than hippies and your rebellious sons

I awake, over steeped in sleep, to a world in flames
--Beautiful. Fucking. Flames.--
Burning flesh gropes the stench
of a million German slaughters
of a million mass graves
of a nation forgetful of its endless wars

And most men know nothing of science
They eat, sleep, and shit banality

Yeah, most men know nothing about the molecules,
Whose existence is contingent upon a covalent bond
In perpetual conflict with the ionic irony of life

Life was born of boredom
Of sex, drugs, and rock n' roll
Not free love and pathological passivity
Kids are compulsions unto their creators
Glowing embers of once great fires

Their tiny hands tall for want of smoke,
Flames reaching for stars
Pinholes poked through the milky membrane of sky

These monsters are the satellites of change
Fed by ego and long self indulgent drunken stupors

Hungry and hardened they scour the glass covered
sidewalks of your cities
--for whores, guns, and drugs--
Leaving behind their
broken antennas to sully our water supply,
But we try-we're just not that good
or sober

--So our fables live on mars
And Venus in a mad house--

And our sleepy souls are landfills
In the needle of a junkies daydream

Tip your trash man because
your bartender is a sadist

And you're the reason the television
has become an enemy

And you're the reason guns
kill babies and the babies of babies