Thought for Food
Enter,
Exit,
Come,
Go,...
Feel my pulsating brain.
Thoughts implode
Fires ignite
feel my consciousness
only tonight
Do I have a conscience?
Who is this devil inside?
Did INXS have it right?
Will the angel REALLY
die tonight?
I know they plot in the day
and fight in my sleep.
Sometimes they make me grimace
and sometimes I weep.
Tossing ideas
around in my head,
they make me invite
strange women to bed.
Fuck them and
lick them and
play with their brains.
Cum in the sun
and also the rain.
Back and forth
they wager and bait
my thoughts and my words
so lust can only sate.
Why do they do this
to little ole me?
This demon and angel
of democracy?
Why democratic?
Do they consult?
Or am I a third party
in the occult?
Only they must know
for I certainly, do not.
All I know is,
my brain is a pot.
They cook up their recipes
of passion and love,
of lust and of want,
to simmer inside me,
for which to haunt,...
...... my brain,
my actions,
my words,
my deeds,...
They enter and exit.
They come and go.
Feel my pulsating brain.
They drive me to madness,
but am I really,...
.................. insane?
Or am I as much of them
as they are of me?
Does it matter?
and do I care?
Not today....
Today,.... I play.
Come demon,
Come angel,
let's have some fun.
Exit,
Come,
Go,...
Feel my pulsating brain.
Thoughts implode
Fires ignite
feel my consciousness
only tonight
Do I have a conscience?
Who is this devil inside?
Did INXS have it right?
Will the angel REALLY
die tonight?
I know they plot in the day
and fight in my sleep.
Sometimes they make me grimace
and sometimes I weep.
Tossing ideas
around in my head,
they make me invite
strange women to bed.
Fuck them and
lick them and
play with their brains.
Cum in the sun
and also the rain.
Back and forth
they wager and bait
my thoughts and my words
so lust can only sate.
Why do they do this
to little ole me?
This demon and angel
of democracy?
Why democratic?
Do they consult?
Or am I a third party
in the occult?
Only they must know
for I certainly, do not.
All I know is,
my brain is a pot.
They cook up their recipes
of passion and love,
of lust and of want,
to simmer inside me,
for which to haunt,...
...... my brain,
my actions,
my words,
my deeds,...
They enter and exit.
They come and go.
Feel my pulsating brain.
They drive me to madness,
but am I really,...
.................. insane?
Or am I as much of them
as they are of me?
Does it matter?
and do I care?
Not today....
Today,.... I play.
Come demon,
Come angel,
let's have some fun.