My possessions are causing me suspicion but there's no proofOriginally Posted by Aylen
In the paper today tales of war and of waste
But you turn right over to the T.V. page
My possessions are causing me suspicion but there's no proof
In the paper today tales of war and of waste
But you turn right over to the T.V. page
Man grows used to everything, the scoundrel!
-Raskolnikov
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy, myself
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
I watched you change
Into a fly
I looked away
You were on fire
I watched a change in you
It's like you never had wings
And you feel so alive
I've watched you change
I took you home
Set you on the glass
I pulled off your wings
Then I laughed
Man grows used to everything, the scoundrel!
-Raskolnikov
Send us a blindfold, send us a blade
Tell the survivors help is on the way
Virgin cells to penetrate
Too premature to permeate
They can't elucidate
Never thought I was the enemy
I am the plague
I am the plague
Americans are not so smart
Cause they don't know about Jean Paul Sartre
Everything they'll ever know
Football games and TV shows
France say kill the king and queen
Jean Paul Sartre (illegible)
With his one true love Simone
All they are is all alone
When logic and proportion
Have fallen sloppy dead
And the White Knight is talking backwards
And the Red Queen's off with her head
Remember what the dormouse said
Feed your head
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
Who's been painting my roses red? WHO'S BEEN PAINTING MY ROSES RED? /Who dares to taint / With vulgar paint / The royal flower bed? / For painting my roses red / Someone will lose his head.
For this freedom
I have given all I had
For this darkness
I gave my light
For this wisdom
I have lost my innocence
Take my petals
And cover me with the night
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
Ok i'm done with that, you can run with that, i'mma switch it up
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
See these eyes so green
I can stare for a thousand years
Colder than the moon
Well, it's been so long
And I've been running on fire
With gasoline
See these eyes so red
Red like jungle burning bright
Those who feel me near
Pull the blinds and change their minds
It's been so long
Still this pulsing night
A plague I call a heartbeat
Just be still with me
But you wouldn't believe what I've been through
Tickles.
Man grows used to everything, the scoundrel!
-Raskolnikov
Charge me your day rate
I'll turn you out in kind
When the moon is round and full
Gonna teach you tricks that'll blow your Mongrel mind
Baby doll I recognize
You're a hideous thing inside
If ever there were a lucky kind it's
You you you you
I know its strange, another way to get to know you
You'll never know unless we go, so let me show you
I know its strange, another way to get to know you
We've got to move, here comes the moon
So let it show you, show you now
Dream me, oh dreamer
Down to the floor
Open my hands and let them
Weave onto yours
Feel me, completer
Down to my core
Open my heart and let it
Bleed onto yours
Feeding on fever
Down on all fours
Show you what all the
Howlin's for
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
...just below the waterline I see
just below the waterline I lay
below the surface I believe there is a place of love and wonder
where all we are and dare to be is fearlessly discovered
I want to live where the soul meets body,
And let the sun wrap its arms around me,
And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing,
And feel, feel what it's like to be new,
'Cause in my head there's a Greyhound station,
Where I send my thoughts to far-off destinations.
So they may have a chance of finding a place where,
They're far more suited than here.
BAda-bada ba-bah
bada ba-ba bada ba-bah
bada ba-ba bada-ba
bada bada-bah
I cannot guess what we'll discover,
When we turn the dirt with our palms cupped like shovels,
But I know our filthy hands can wash one another's,
And not one speck will remain.
And I do believe it's true that there are roads left in both of our shoes,
But if the silence takes you then I hope it takes me too.
So brown eyes I hold you near, 'cause you're the only song I want to hear
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere.
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
And the twinkling lies, all those twinkling lies
Sparkle with the wet ink on the paper
Let it rain, let it pour down on ya
I'm only happy when it rains
You want to hear about my new obsession
I'm riding high upon a deep depression
I'm only happy when it rains...
pour some misery down on me
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
Rain, rain go away, that's what all my haters say
My pockets stuck on overload, my rain never evaporates
No need to elaborate, most of these ducks exaggerate
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
dancing on the legs of a newborn pony
left right, left right, keep it up son
go ahead and have her, go ahead and leave her
you only ever had her when you were a fever
Man grows used to everything, the scoundrel!
-Raskolnikov
Everybody's got the fever
That is something you should know
Fever isn't such a new scene
Fever started long ago
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
Man grows used to everything, the scoundrel!
-Raskolnikov
I wanna fuck you like an animal
I wanna feel you from the inside
I wanna fuck you like an animal
My whole existence is flawed
You get me closer to God
You can have my isolation
You can have the hate that it brings
You can have my absence of faith
You can have my everything
And I used to have nothing
But now I got a whole lot of everythang
That's why I come through stuntin'
When I'm gone the whole world gonna know my name
12 years old, caught up in that street life
I was tryna shine harder than the street lights
Ran the streets tongue-tied, couldn't sleep nights
Cause when you're living wrong, it's hard to sleep right
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
And in your soul they poked a million holes
But you never let em show
Come on, it’s time to go
Come away with me in the night
Come away with me
And I will write you a song
Come away with me on a bus
Come away where they can't tempt us
With their lies!
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
We'll find the perfect place to go where we can run and hide
I'll build a wall and we can keep them on the other side
...but they keep waiting
...and picking...
You!
I wanna take you to a gay bar,
I wanna take you to a gay bar,
I wanna take you to a gay bar, gay bar, gay bar.
It would be awesome
If we could dance-a
It would be awesome, yeah
Let's take the chance-a
It would be awesome, yeah
Let's start the show
Because you never know
You never know
You never know until you go
You know the sun is shining; it's raining in my heart.
I don't know what to do since weve been apart.
Why don't you tell me, babe, what is going on?
You know I love you darling, don't want to be alone
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
Pure intention juxtaposed will set two lovers souls in motion
Disintegrating as it goes testing our communication
The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so
We cannot seem to reach an end crippling our communication
And how I've loved
And I have served
And I have sinned
But I have learnt
As long as you are
True to the life that you live
This is the time
To feel love
I feel a stirring deep within
Slowly picking up momentum
Like the tide coming into shore
Over and under in its course
This feeling emblazed inside
Every nerve like a firefly
Hovering above me
Glow glow, glowing divine
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
Help me out
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
And when there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
These changes ain't changing me
The gold-hearted boy I used to be
There's no light in this room
It's all right, we got you
You shine like gold
You walk by
Cause a scene, all the girls
They agree, you shine like gold
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
We bend our knees
At the altar of my ego
[welcome back, Within..I was just thinking about you and here you are.]
I have come curiously close to the end, down
Beneath my self-indulgent pitiful hole,
Defeated, I concede and
Move closer
I may find comfort here
I may find peace within the emptiness
How pitiful
It's calling me
And in my darkest moment, fetal and weeping
The moon tells me a secret, my confidant
As full and bright as I am
This light is not my own and
A million light reflections pass over me
Its source is bright and endless
She resuscitates the hopeless
Without her, we are lifeless satellites drifting
And as I pull my head out I am without one doubt
Don't want to be down here feeding my narcissism.
I must crucify the ego before it's far too late
I pray the light lifts me out
Before I pine away.
So crucify the ego, before it's far too late
To leave behind this place so negative and blind and cynical,
And you will come to find that we are all one mind
Capable of all that's imagined and all conceivable.
Just let the light touch you
And let the words spill through
And let them pass right through
Bringing out our hope and reason
Before we pine away.
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League…
Fuck these haters, I’d kill ‘em all if I could
Ain’t scared of none of y’all, so you know my aim good
Blowin bin Ladie in my Porsche 911
Just left Ground Zero, on my way to kush heaven
Can’t slow down, too much evil in my rear view
Sometimes you wanna scream to God, but he can’t hear you
And even if he did, this’ll probably be his answer
Fuck you ‘plainin’ ’bout? It ain’t like you got cancer
Do it for my niggas on the block that got it worse
First the love, then the hate, that just a trap nigga’s curse
I betcha feel like the whole world hatin’ on you
But what’s the holdup? The whole world waitin’ on you
(The fame…)
I wake up and feel empty
Shit make you wanna squeeze your Glock ’til it’s empty
I’m already standin’ on the edge, so don’t tempt me
Fake motherfuckers envy
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
I thought I was mistaken
I thought I heard your words
Tell me how do I feel
Tell me now how do I feel
Those who came before me
Lived through their vocations
From the past until completion
They will turn away no more
And I still find it so hard
To say what I need to say
But I'm quite sure that you'll tell me
Just how I should feel today
I see a ship in the harbor
I can and shall obey
But if it wasn't for your misfortunes
I'd be a heavenly person today
And I thought I was mistaken
And I thought I heard you speak
Tell me how do I feel
Tell me now how should I feel
Now I stand here waiting
I thought I told you to leave me
While I walked down to the beach
Tell me how does it feel
When your heart grows cold
I feel you
Your precious soul
And I am whole
I feel you
Your rising sun
My kingdom comes
I feel you
Each move you make
I feel you
Each breath you take
Where angels sing
And spread their wings
My love's on high
You take me home
To glory's throne
By and by
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
Peace at last
Through stormin' seas and broken masts
I lay my final anchor
Relinquish pain and anger
Face to face
I long to be in the same place
Our love letters I've burned,
to you I must return
I think there will be rain tonight
It's up there in the clouds that are forming
We must secure the rigging now
Before nightfalls the waves will be turning
Did you feel the wind pick up?
Without the sails we're safer 'til the morning
I wish there were another ship
It's lonely now the rain has started falling
I miss the friends we knew back home
I'm thinking of them now the storm is rising
At sea there's always tomorrow
There are ways to be free
We'll work it out
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