i am not a beast, nor am i a saint, but if i told you that i’m full of broken promises, would you believe a word i say? sincerity is dead, and i’m just as dead as it, but if ya look inside of me, all that you’ll find is a living hypocrite. you know, i’d tell you how i really felt if i could answer that myself. the truth is that i tell too many lies, and i’ve convinced myself that i am nothing but a piece of shit, and that’s the reason that i’m never satisfied, but i’m hoping for a day when the anger and the pain, it will subside… but i get used a lot by everyone i know, and maybe being used by those i care about is punishment for using those i don’t, but if people weren’t so heartless, then, they’d probably realize that i care much more than they could ever know. i guess that first impressions stick, and that’s a god damn shame ’cause i care too much by the time it starts to show, but i’m hoping for a day when i can get my feelings under control. i’ve still so much to say but can never find the words. the irony that is my life is by the time i do, it will be too late to be heard… and there’s probably a reason no one ever fucking listens, so, just please ignore everything that i say because i know that i am just another crazy fucking person in this world with too much time to think, but i’m hoping for a day when i can collect my thoughts enough to speak… or maybe sing.

i’d like to say i could treat you like I treat myself, but that would probably be like shit. i wake up puking and shitting, and that’s only if i go to sleep. i’ve spent almost half of my life sleeping on other people’s couches or floors or lying to different women in their beds. yeah, i’ve had a couple of jobs, but i piss all my money on booze and drugs… at least i’m man enough to support my own addictions, but lately i’ve been thinkin’ that this life is getting old, and i have to change myself if i want to change the world. so, if i break free tomorrow, from these shackles and these chains in which i have placed myself, then, i promise not to follow in the footsteps that i have been because i don’t need anyone else… i’d like to say i could lead you, but i can’t even lead myself to the driveway, i’m slipping in puddles and tripping on stairs. how much did i take? oh, plus, i don’t believe in leaders anyway. it’s just another way to say that i’m in charge of you, and if someone who’s as pathetic as me can do it on his own, then, i assure you, so can you.

so, i’ve been wandering around this hell trying to find my peace, but i just get drunk and go to sleep, and i’ll admit that at times, i forgot your age. petulant and sleep deprived, this whole thing was a surprise, but you know that i lied to myself before i ever lied to you about the things i said that day. i think that is just because i refused to admit to myself that i really felt that way. don’t you know denial’s just another word for i don’t believe a fucking word i say? and i’m not quite sure just how i fell for you, and maybe it’s just because we were up for days. i think that it was just the meth talking, but when you said that you love me, i had to know if it was true. maybe it was more than fair ’cause i did more than pretend to care. as you lied there in my arms, i lied there lying to you… but on our final night, we cried and screamed during the fight that would put is in the place that we are now… i just pushed and pushed and pushed, and since i couldn’t shut my mouth, i went from sleeping on grace’s bed every night to on hope’s couch.

the cool, crisp air has come and filled my lungs. there’s nothing like the south country autumn. leaves of red and orange just fall right off the trees, and below the starlit sky, i find something in me… a beat of inspiration drums within my broken heart as i’ve grown up to find that freedom is my art, and as the banjo plays, i’m content within myself. there’s nothing better than finding a cool breeze in hell. you know, there were a few years when i forgot who i was. i compromised my ideals for what i thought was love, and in desperation, i sold myself short as i lied to myself about what was comfort. well, i woke up one day, and i realized what i’ve done, i’ll say i am out to change for fear of what i will become, but i can’t promise you that it won’t happen again, ’cause i’ve promised myself not to make false statements.

when i woke up this morning and lit up my cigarette, the first thoughts that went through my head were ones of regret, and if i could tell you how to change anyone else, then i would probably know how to stop hating myself because everything i say just contradicts the things i do, and it's not that i don't believe in all the things i preach to you. as much as i would love to stand up against corporate greed, there are just so many god damn things i think i need. what happened to a culture of self-sufficiency? did they all grow up, or did they forget how to breath? i would do things on my own if i had the means, but ya know that i get ill if i can't brush my fucking teeth. now, i see all these people camping in the streets. they're out to make a difference and make sure that everyone eats because they know our world is run by global profiteers and capitalist bankers who set foreign policies. as much as i would love to see the occupy movement succeed, we've got to learn to fight police if we shall be free. there are six thousand fucking people locked up in a cage just for trying to usher freedom into this new age, but their propaganda says that freedom isn't free, and to fight for country and to be all you can be. Well freedom isn't something that should have a fucking price; freedom is the power for your own laws to suffice... and it's a punk rock song i hear that fills me up with hope... and it's the anarchists of oakland who fill me up with hope... and it's mass awareness that fills me up with hope... and it's a global movement that fills me up with hope... and it's the young hitchhikers who fill me up with hope... and it's the same train hoppers who fill me up with hope... and it's the counter- culture that fills me up with hope... and it's people like you who fill me up with hope...

I once said I'd teach the children all the things they shouldn't hear, but I guess that I was lying because I was living in fear. See, our world is changing right before our very eyes. These kids, they are our future; we should protect their lives. Instead, you buy them clothes with peace signs sold in corporate shops which are made by other children. man, this shit has got to stop. 'Cause while your kid's fat from McDonald's, there are kids bloated from white rice, and ya know they're still starving because it's bleached of nutrients. so, maybe we should teach the kids to grow their own food, and share it with the people that help in their neighborhoods. See, I woke up on a school bus in Lafayette, TN after pouring my guts into a cooking pot; dopesickness killing me, but I got help from some dirty kids I barely knew. The best thing that they taught me was I should shut up and do. So, then I went off traveling, hitching across the south, and I'm disgusted by the ignorance which spews from people's mouths. They may say that there's no class war, but they're lying through their teeth. I've seen kids go to jail for having nowhere to sleep. I may wake up tomorrow lying beneath another bridge, but I'll still give you anything if I've anything to give because we can still set examples, even when we've nothing left, maybe then we can start building a new world, and if we can stand together as the role models we should be, maybe all the kids will start to learn...and maybe we can learn from children things they can't learn from us like how to trust each other and unconditional love. Take what we can from that, and instead of teaching through fear, we can make sure to remind them that there's no danger near. I've taken rides from strangers way more times than I can count, and ya that if I hadn't I probably wouldn't be around to tell the stories that I tell you that are all so very true and something tells me there's something that I am meant to do. Maybe that's just that i'm still living while these kids I know are dying off, and it saddens me so much that life takes the best of us. so, maybe we should stop selling drugs to all these kids, and start showing them we can change things if we change how we live, and ya know that we're all guilty of nihilistic thoughts, but maybe right now's the time for more positive plots. Maybe we can make the future a much simpler life, if we could all just pitch in to be the guiding light.

by FILTH

jaded by a town that turns childhood dreams into impossibilities, it’s time that i escape from what i am sure is hell, this place breeds ignorance and greed, and i know all women aren’t the same, but i’ve heard the same damn lines from so many of them that sometimes i lose myself. if i’m so god damn wonderful, then why am i impossible to love? if someone else could love me, then maybe i could love myself, but every woman that lies beside me just goes home to someone else, and man, it breaks my heart… but the curse that is a freedom fighter, aside from early death is that we are born to die alone, and the luxuries of liberty aren’t something that i will see, it’s a battle fought for all you careless souls, and it may seem sad and pointless when you’ll die along the way, but maybe death’s the freedom that i want… or maybe what i want’s a day that i don’t wake up on someone else’s couch wishing that i had a cigarette or a loaded gun, or a day that i don’t wake up all alone, or need drugs to put a smile on my face. yeah, life is pretty pointless now, and i’ve been searching for the point for about as long i can remember, and i’ve been too scared to say that i’m too lonely and depressed to set an example for anyone else. it’s sad to say i loathe myself a little bit more every day, but what did you expect from someone like me? the day i get gunned down by cops will be the day i learn honesty, and i’ll die with a grin upon my face ’cause i think that death’s all i’ve ever wanted, but right now, i won’t make that mistake. instead, i’ll keep my head up while i hitch to my next show, and when i get there, i’ll hope that it fucking explodes, and i’ll keep on preaching freedom til the day i alone, and when the words are hard to find, i will look within myself because if i am just a single man, then i can change the world, all i need is for you to be at my side, so, come and stand beside me, and together, we can scream toward in a world where we are born to be alive.

when i woke up this morning and lit up my cigarette, the first thoughts that went through my head were ones of regret, and if i could tell you how to change anyone else, then i would probably know how to stop hating myself because everything i say just contradicts the things i do, and it's not that i don't believe in all the things i preach to you. as much as i would love to stand up against corporate greed, there are just so many god damn things i think i need. what happened to a culture of self-sufficiency? did they all grow up, or did they forget how to breath? i would do things on my own if i had the means, but ya know that i get ill if i can't brush my fucking teeth. now, i see all these people camping in the streets. they're out to make a difference and make sure that everyone eats because they know our world is run by global profiteers and capitalist bankers who set foreign policies. as much as i would love to see the occupy movement succeed, we've got to learn to fight police if we shall be free. there are six thousand fucking people locked up in a cage just for trying to usher freedom into this new age, but their propaganda says that freedom isn't free, and to fight for country and to be all you can be. Well freedom isn't something that should have a fucking price; freedom is the power for your own laws to suffice... and it's a punk rock song i hear that fills me up with hope... and it's the anarchists of oakland who fill me up with hope... and it's mass awareness that fills me up with hope... and it's a global movement that fills me up with hope... and it's the young hitchhikers who fill me up with hope... and it's the same train hoppers who fill me up with hope... and it's the counter- culture that fills me up with hope... and it's people like you who fill me up with hope...

i’d like to say i could treat you like I treat myself, but that would probably be like shit. i wake up puking and shitting, and that’s only if i go to sleep. i’ve spent almost half of my life sleeping on other people’s couches or floors or lying to different women in their beds. yeah, i’ve had a couple of jobs, but i piss all my money on booze and drugs… at least i’m man enough to support my own addictions, but lately i’ve been thinkin’ that this life is getting old, and i’ve got to change myself if i want to change the world. so, if i break free tomorrow, from these shackles and these chains in which i have placed myself, then, i promise not to follow in the footsteps that i have been. i need nothing but myself… i’d like to say i could lead you, but i can’t even lead myself to the driveway, i’m slipping in puddles and tripping on stairs. how much did i take? oh, plus, i don’t believe in leaders anyway. it’s just another way to say that i’m in charge of you, and if someone who’s as pathetic as me can do it on his own, then i assure you, so can you.

the cool, crisp air has come and filled my lungs. there’s nothing like the south country autumn. leaves of red and orange just fall right off the trees, and below the starlit sky, i find something in me… a beat of inspiration drums within my broken heart as i’ve grown up to find that freedom is my art, and as the banjo plays, i’m content within myself. there’s nothing better than finding a cool breeze in hell. you know, there were a few years when i’d forgottem who i was, and i compromised my ideals for what i thought was love, and out of desperation, i sold myself short as i lied to myself about what was comfort. well, i woke up one day, and i realized what i’ve done, i’ll say i’m out to change for fear of what i will become, but i can’t promise you it won’t happen again, ’cause i’ve promised myself not to make false statements.

well, i’ve been drowning in a bottle for so god damn long and busking for cash just to catch my next high, and i’ve been eating so much garbage, trash is all i talk, so i’m sorry if you believe some of my lies because it’s not that i am heartless, but i am a little cheap, and i’m just a little jaded toward the world beneath my feet because the things that i find beautiful end up as cheap as me, and i’m disgusted with myself for my insecurities. like that time that i shot morphine and pushed the plunger in too fast, i hit my head upon the floor seeking out something that lasts. so, i wander, and i roam worth no destination known, and it really doesn’t matter that i’ve no place to call home. i guess it doesn’t matter that i wake up all alone in the ground puking up bile next to everything i own because the longer that i’m running, the longer i’ll be free from the debt that’s been stacked up and sent in bills to me. i refuse to get another job working for someone else where someone tells me what to do like i can’t think for myself, and it’s barely just enough to pay the bills i have to share or else i exploit others just to climb some corporate stairs. i’ve got friends across the country, and they live out in the woods, and they live self- sufficiently in hidden neighbourhoods. we’re all yearning for freedom. we’re all fighting for peace. we’re all hoping for a day when we’re our own police. we are our own police…

i gave up everything just to eat from the trash, as i travel cross- country with a forty pound pack. no one picks up hitchers when you mob seven deep. just like in atlanta when you’re alone on your feet. now, we can’t go to nashville; we’re outlaws in those streets just for busking and waiting on the train so we could leave. no matter where i go, it seems it’s where i don’t wanna be, so i only stay a couple of days just to say that i’m free, but if i really had freedom, then i wouldn’t drink, and if i really had freedom, i wouldn’t crave nicotine. if i really had freedom, you think i’d know what i want, and if i really had freedom, there’d be no need for thought…