Sydney

Don't you think
fools are kind of cool
Serenading the multitudes
All kinds of visual jewelry
Ear mocking range is a price to find,
No vocal sale too low
No pretty eye too old
When you're in the streets
Find a beat
Walk with the sister's system in your feet
Rage is a quiet dream, hidden in between things
the city buildings grow even quieter
Their presence unesecapable and their bricks avoidable
Their domination is loud and loud
All around,
A fool's crowd.
Hear the man speak!
Read the sign change!
The weather is about to rain.
Things never stay the same.
If only they knew,
how sorrily true
The Bible of Facts is,
A great sadness, a madness.
A newspaper gives the deadline for dinner time
Fear is broadcast with a giant headline
Slurpy slurpy slurpy,
the ice cold machines feed the sugar deprived, and addicted, the emotionally starved.
No woman ever ventured this far,
Up top to the building
Alone and dress flinging!
You might see her beneath her underwear,
If she didn't care
Standing proud, a model to her soul
Looking down she spies
A fool giving ground!
To a bigger fool pushing his way
Today is big-screen TV day
and Money is To Pay (Way)
Out in the taxi,
photographs still laughs
Criminals conspire with suspicious ire
Too black for the mainstream
Too selfish for the underground stream
Human Consciousness Limited [a Magazine]
Publishes itself in the earth's shelf: on top a city news stack
Earthquake never leveled flat.
A model's image adorns the page
Isn't it great how fashion's all the rage?
And suicide and kids die?
And a shirtless Australian holding a weapon
Underneath a brave description of this combat veteran
He's got the Taliban in His Righteous Sights
He's the reason fools sleep tonight
God bless is soul,
digging in a hellhole.
Faster inventions mean faster attrition.
And six thousand rounds a minute is particle power,
Fools make mincemeat by the hour.
Underground religious fanatics,
conspire in their ire, philosophical criminals
and the beautiful model on top of the world respects them, above all men.
At least they don't care about Sin and the lies within.
She cares, a lot, without too much
She wouldn't be much
Just a girl in the wind,
Waiting for her life to end.
Magazine's call,
Bedroom's fall
In the sale's rack of an apartment store
I wonder who put a bomb underneath the manager's door?
Fool him once, shame on no one
"Crime ain't a shame when your victim lives in vain"
The mad bomber is a fugitive of philosophy
Accepted by only frivolous hostility.
Controller, controller.
In the mall's I'll show 'er
Just how to play this silly game
Split screen for the mind 'vain.
Just feel my presses,
hot and nekkid
Understand you're a vain,
understand no one's sane.
The mad bomber breaks the controller
Star Guard spots a rule broken Officially Hard
"No one breaks our property here"
Gun bullet breaks the proper fear
I'm living in a jeer
Fools are queer
And their gorgeous fashion gear
He won't shed a tear
When she tears her dress,
breathes into full carress
fucking and fucking until a lie is revealed
fucking and fucking until she can't hear
anyone,
but the sound of their rythym.
Three men have escaped from prison.
Life bound and freedom found,
They run naked philosophies inside machine heads,
Or so Big Sister and her System said.
Lordess Liberty, won't you Please
Fall to your Knees and Kiss my Penis
Will the System please submit to me?
Will the cars please not hit me?
Madman runs through terror files
There are busy streets and scumphiles
Fools keep begfor Lady Liberty to give them head
Will the System fall on her knees?
Will the Policeman drown within his angry Machine
Thoughts will not stop
a forceful cop
putting a gun in your mouth-hole
blowing a load,
hollow
point
bullets in each and every gun
The cops here, they're made to kill you son.
And when you sleep tonight,
Don't forget to say a prayer
Pray that everything is alright
for your little sister upstairs, and all the screaming fans
with satellite streaming vans
Play that music louder
Play that miserable anthem now
Let the world know your needs,
Let the fools praise your bleed
ing self, and ego-help
A shot of society
Is all the medicine a boy needs.
Just ask the prostitutes and lawless dukes
They each run this country
Every citizen an active hand,
To put it bluntly
The mechanism behind the war in Afghanistan
But don't speak out
Cops can hear shouts
From miles away, with radio waves
recording every conspiracy you say
She model scans the beauty land
Was this the way, the world was, when she was born?
Was this the way, before all..
fell to the sound,
that button press
that electric chest of sports transmission
gather round for your latest dose
of living in-admission
Alcohol is not so bad for us all
Keep the gambling money
Take it home to your honey.
Buy her a new TV
Fuck fuck fuck
while flipping through
cartoons of donald duck
action hero Morgan Freeman
and world dominators,
Politicians
and busy-bee Citizen.
Mr. J and Mrs. K.
You will die from rules if you don't marry today
(her baby was left behind in another city)
Cops chase,
madman hates
There's a way out,
of this hellhole
He's sure of it.
Saw it clear as the tattoo on the soldier's back
Fly like an eagle,
get off the beaten track.
Load up the car,
madman takes his cash, his girl, his book
drives far enough
The cops give up
It's time for alcohol and street shining teens
Watch the evening swing, watch those boys sing
And the pretty ladies, dressed up hasty
Can never be sure if they're from Hollywood
or just pretending to play a part
Fool reads the guest list and
madman and his model are glad they never fell apart
After she rescued him from his drunken state
Lying prostrate in the dance club
Mickey Mouse is the Club House
and all the children said Amen,
"This is the party of the life"
even until they reach state lines
magazines thrown into the desert every klick.
Cops race home.
Model tells him,
They ran out of sales brochures in Paradise,
So we get to live with human lice.