300 Pound Music Dot Com

Look Ma! No hands!


fumbling with bloody stumps through telephone directories hoping to find some meaning in the air between the pages.
drowning in the effervescent liquid of your love, I reached in for a sip and found myself floating helpless. will no one come to save me? When I'm all alone and talking to the walls and all the termites living underneath my carpet gnawing at the 2X4's cemented to the foundation: the very things I have allowed myself to put so much faith in.

hands cut off.
mouth shut.
eyes closed.
Would it be so bad to let it all just fall away?
Look ma! No Hands!
This guy on the corner just told me that I was a dead men.
huh... who knew?

every morning I wake up and tell myself the air Im breathing is not really some carcinogen but may poor head is reeling. stomach twisted up into these knots like celtic jewlery I'm growing quite concerned about this monster looming over me. I'm sitting in a recess drawing lines upon a flat rock face I'm paying attention to the sign that's marking my hard place. My pathway to the future paved with broken glass and shattered bones. I've eaten all the breadcrumbs that had marked the path back to my home.

ever wonder what the hell's in hot dogs?
the birthday boy's always right.

they told me
maybe I'd be ok

you've got a goddamn gift boy.

something's just not right. I can't place it. But it's just.


normalcy is leaving me. I've got no will to fight or flee. The stump left from the giving tree is all that still remains of me. The sky is falling, and chicken little led us one and all to be the foxes' meal but I can't bring myself care at all.

so I'll just sit down on the couch, take off my shoes and hat, and go to sleep, I guess. it's all I've got left.