Sleeves slipping suggestively, obliterating any possibility of focus in a 20 mile radius.

Guts gushing towards the screen, bodies boiling in blood and anguish, keeps em' coming back for more.

You walk alone, fading afternoon like a ticking time bomb, faster, or the night will catch you.

Needles and pills fix you up so well, you're better than new, euphoric corpses.

Too many tilts back, too many chugs, too easy to justify plain denial as lies.

"We want change" or so they say, better the comfort of the familiar than unknown possibility.

The glass is thick, but the ideal image is clear; why fix it if it ain't broke? Cover up the cracks with some thick tape, crush those attempting to smash your screen.

Basic biology seems so cinematic as soon as ratings rose, anything for the arts.

For country and honor, the pawns march forgiven to their sinless suicides.

Crossing the cross is crossing the line, that line they view as bold and clear; the spiral.

The death count is rising, pity, with better lighting it could almost be provocative.

"Be yourself" said while slicing the cookie cutter into the dough, hope it doesn't overflow, making another batch sounds exhausting.

It's just a phase, sweetie, let them tire themselves out into someone else.

Treat yourself, your standards are so high, treat yourself to a swap; lets see how high your noses can stay.