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Archive #2 4/19/98
ARCHIVE #2 4/19/98
UNTITLED
by Old Magnus. . The Magnanimous

amazing grace. . how sweet the sound of silence. . . . .
inwards now broken. . toward this pounding of a loud heart.
dull faces establish themselves around the coldest fences
i seek a token of peace. . of the higher ground
the new dawn. . renders me senseless. . .

PARENTING
by John McClane

You try to tell me sweet little lies
I can see it through your eyes
You want to do good
Like a good girl should

It's not your fault you were brought up bad

You bury your head in the sand
Saying that it never touched your hand
But the dirt is still cold
And your soul is still sold

It's not your fault you were brought up bad

If you see the world through different tints
All you have to do it blame your parents
That's how it works
You say with a smirk

It's not your fault you were brought up bad

UNTITLED
by John McClane

If you want to be known
you have to put on a show
And cover your thoughts
till your stomachs in knots
Then you realize
that your soul dies
When you don't express your feelings

Back to: A SEASON IN HELL