Chorale For Burdensome Debt Please

fig.3.4) fuck the truth, I got this lie stuck in my head

Yes, this is true and you might need a hug. But that isn't changing any facts. There's not enough math in this whole bucket to realize the depth or scope of our dilemma, and finding some joy while being near it, isn't even a part of solving the thing on our board. Similarly, there's no truth to sending more of our kids to these hotels for greater learning, or analyzing whether one giant resin replica of Marilyn Monroe is more real than a giant painting of Marilyn Monroe by another Multimillionaire that's been living a best selfie moment inside of their crystal warehouse. Collectively, we've gone and deinsentivized many communal or public aspects of the government that all of us have shared. It's taken years of specious proclammity, recondite naval gazing while drifting further out into the piss-like phantasmagoria that's like sleep, but isn't. Education or debate in general have been replaced with plastic gaming platforms and social media side-boobs that are piped to our cell phones every day, all day. Out on this exhausting ocean, our calendars need more days because our families deserve more time, especially since the jobs we're working are fruitless toils of grief and make work that amount to keeping a shitty raft bound together with tissues and indulgence.

Lets sing out,
Buckets of filth in our garbage, alley at the backdoor is under the basement words too
Mustard Head, Ryder, G-Lily and Fox, out the drapery where darkness grows
Shall we share this truth at once. Savory, before driving the lawn

The first world is now so far removed from that long ago jet pack future, its been dowsed in kerosene and we're pissing ourselves into the afterlife as watch all of it burn. Where it isn't a wildfire this morning, it's a tire fire that's getting more dumpsters tossed at it. Go us, go on Team Frivolous. Big hugs for everyone. But if you're reading the t-shirts as they pass, if you're miserable then you're not focused, and if you can't focus you can't see that our lives are being limited and compartmentalized. Only you can decide if you are willing to reverse your role inside of this monster dung ball. You need to recognize that change is our currency and that slogans are the turds best left on the rugs of those people responsible for trying steal our bank.

Lets sing out,
Buckets of filth in our garbage, alley at the backdoor is under the basement words too
Mustard Head, Ryder, G-Lily and Fox, out the drapery where darkness grows
Shall we share this truth at once. Savory, before driving the lawn

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Not the Willem DeKooning Retrospective (Not Even Close)

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