Kid A
Poetry, Thoughts and Abstract Lies
i am being repressed, and not in a good way
I HATE IT!
i'm being prevented from expressing myself and i am now
having to resort to espionage to make my point.
with a soundtrack consisting of Morbid Angel and Pantera,
and a mise-en-scéne as dark as my soul, how can this be
anything but pleasent?
let me paint a picture thus.
a shark, in water. if it stops swimming, it dies.
well for me, art is swimming. self-expression is vital or
else i sink to the bottom of society. if i didn't do this
then i would start getting...*whisper it*...normal.
and how could this happen?
how could i be another faceless face?
HOW?
ANSWER ME!
c'est "angst-faux", monsieur.
ahhh, oui.
mon cher's "phrase de preferé" es "aww mon bébé viens la"
then i get a hug, or even a kiss. isn't that nice.
we were open to others, but now we are closed to all.
alotted timespan surpassed, we are living on borrowed time
now AND LOVING IT, BABY.
i don't need anyone else anymore
i love you, girl
Kid A
xxxx
ps. i'm on the highway to hell
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