Anxag0n1st

We may no longer be cave-dwellers But still embellishers, tale-tellers About Gods on high What's above the sky Beyond death, before breath And how and why. The old sins and virtues that we once preached Were just one way to teach us how to live out our lives. But now we know the world is X wide and Y high And those bloodthirsty, feudal ways That got us through the famines and plagues (made them feel controlled, explained) Have to be pushed aside. Those old excuses for conflict are dead and gone We know our days are numbered and we have to get along. Still, those empty superstitions whose purposes have been long since served Ar

Woke up with your name on my lips again. Woke up with your face on my mind. How I underestimated the extent Of the dreams I left behind. I still think of you sometimes Is it killing me? Is it killing me? I still see you there sometimes, Lying so close to me, How it could never be. Tried to feel something new today Tried to remember what it was like. But it burnt so fast and faded away, When I saw you shine so bright. I still think of you sometimes Remember fidelity? And tranquility? I still think of you sometimes Is it killing me? Is it killing me?

I see the cocaine underdogs Who wander through the city smogs I squint to see through the small hours. They wander to their wives at home, Dance together, crawl alone. Blundering blindly into flowers. I can't see you but I smell your face Lost and lonely in this place. Rescue me from my disgrace, I don't want to be afraid of the dark. Paranoia creeps through my veins, Eyeballs burned by vision stains. New fears take me by surprise. Please help me escape from here, Help me battle each new fear And cleanse my God-damned eyes. Candy dreams of your caress Won't save me from this mess. Rescue me from my distress. I don't want to

It was great, but it's over, What else can I say? I hope there's no hard feelings And you can just go on your way. But excuse me if I shed a tear, It's not that I still care. Just sometimes when I close my eyes I think that you're still there. It was great, but it's over. There's nothing left to do, Except to say I'm ready for this, I hope you're ready too. Because all the time who were we kidding, When we thought it was all fine? Now just memories to treasure, And no more wasted time. So excuse me if I shed a tear As I hear you say: "It was great, but it's over. I won't forget you, but it's over. I loved you, but it's ove

Broken wisdom on the edges of extinction. Shattered feelings on the precipice of hope. All the time that you laid bleeding I cried on the sores of our friction, How you transcended it all I'll never know. I can't grab these precious moments even knowing they're nearly over, I can't focus through the euphoria of the fake. Never was worthy of living in your shadow, Still not worthy of living in your wake. Still my selfish, empty tears won't change a thing, Not now I realise how fragile it all is.

   There came a time, of course, when nylon blonde robot Katrin knelt before her lover and his slave with life-preserving nectar, and their eyes soon focussed again, seeing their rescuer with gratitude and mercy. Troy was the first to wake and mistakenly rubbed his eyes until he was aware of the pain that it produced. Xenon touched Katrin's face with the very tips of his fingers and brought her closer to him. He kissed her, softly at first, and then with the passion of a man who had seen death and, for now at least, had escaped its grasp. "Wow!" Sighed Troy at last, "that was close. Do you guys want some speed?"   And they danced for hours

Where dreamers go to die.  Looking for a life amongst the flow and ebb and flow and ebb between someone else's cashmere daydreams in window booths and magazines. Nights spent sleeping doggy style, twitching and yelping amongst nightmares of violence. Entombed by the hollow noise of pretty boys and paper thin and clearer skin diet plan beauties I concuss myself to bring about the silence.  In conception somewhere a wet dream dredged from the depths of human depravity. The fingers of a man fumble over the body of an imitation woman. Exactly how every man would like her to be of proportion and complexion. Better than The Real Thing. Limitati

Fear alone is my enemy, evaded, if not beaten, for now as the intoxication of my curiosity accelerates me far beyond it. As we land on the island of Fortuna™ and spill into the maze-like malls of the Athena complex, a reminder of the rules tells that this is a land of uncharted pleasures and dangers. The vital sociability beaten out of me long ago will need to be rediscovered if I want to survive. If. The visibly pounding complex gradually fills with the travel-weary. Semiconscious and awe-struck, hundreds of us gaze around weakly, walking through the music which oozes from the building's every pore. The floor is tiled with mirrors, light

Those who make the mistake of coming to London with a little of their humanity still intact soon learn that beneath the gleam and the glitter lies a cracked and dirty city which flakes and stinks like a decaying corpse. The vulnerable form allegiances indefinite, indelible, intoxicating and live within the pockets and the souls of others, dodging the ever-present threat of the burns of severance. Today is the battle against tomorrow's enemy when yesterday may never have existed and whose memory is weaker than that of a dream. This is the story for those who dare to jump into the fires of love, with all its dangers. A person is never so na