easter sunday

i've done fuck all today
my dad woke me up at about 10 to give me an easter egg, i ate a bit, felt sick, then went back to sleep.
i got up at watched tv, and 'bewitched' the film. my only attempt at doing something is bringing in a grey bag to throw shit out.
my mum rung from america earlier, it really annoyed me because she seemed more eager to speak to my sister and my dad than me. i cried.
me and ste ended stuff the other day. well, it was more him than me, again, but it was mutual.
he was still being a dickhead too!
wtf.
he wrote two sets of 'lyrics', blatantly about me. meh.

A rebel without a cause

Is to rebel without a clue

Portraits and images

That remind me of you

If its true that the offers were

Intended to bring me close to her

Than I would pick up the phone

Almost every single day

In a way its clear now

Just what is left to do?

But the list keeps on growing

I dont think Ill see it through in a sense i've lost my way

And this itching on my arm

Seems to restore some lost calm

It cant do any harm once more

To just try again

I believe I am an asset

To anyone who asks

I cant help but assist

And the point just might be missed

Growing tired of this turmoil

The light has burnt out the oil

Spoiling all the nice surprises

That I painstakingly planned

But on the other hand

Todays a brand new day

Wrote with the sweat on my palm

Just what I intend to say

But god damn it man

I just cant have it

Lift me out of this world

I want to see a new planet

As the granite in my bathroom floor

Slowly erodes away

And the cold draft in here

Means my girlfriend will not stay

Gone away once more

To clean the residue of my floor

Yeah the task it a bore

But its got to be done

I try to run away from problems

But my lungs give in

And the girl in the corner shop

Commented that Im looking thin

I can just laugh and grin

At the colour of my skin

They told my next of kin

That I have found a tone of grey

As I hound every person

That comes walking down the street

Asking lots of questions

About whom they would like to meet

And i'm greeted in a way

That could only happen here

People always seem happy

At this time of year

Wipe the tear from your eye

Because im really ok

I want to be loved

Forget that I am anyway

Accelerate away

And contemplate the way to steer

As im sure that it pulls

Just a little to the left

Tiredness crept into my head

Then spare a thought for the dead

As I am sure that lots of people

Would be glad to come along

But instead I kill my time

Sat in the corner of my room

Thinking about the smoke

That I daily consume

And the boom that you heard

Is easily misunderstood

Mistaken for a gunshot

Really its just pounding mud

And rarely do we see

Like minded people like we

I know they exist

Im barking up the wrong tree

The marking on my wall

Is a symbol of things I lost?

I wear it round my neck

Like the burden of a cross

And the moss in the forest

Will always mean a lot to me

Skipping stones in the morning

And paddling in the stream

And I mean it when I say that

I am lonely here

Got lost of friends around

But I misplaced their care

And a word in my ear

Never did too much good

Just leave me in the country side

To explore all the woods

To explode then implode

Like the throat of a toad

Is just how it was meant to be?

Or so I am told

But to try and explain being

Using an amphibian

As a metaphor for life

SigNing a tree with a knife

I think I have now learnt

Not to listen anymore

I almost won the battle

But I defenatly lost the war

And I swore to some god,

The truth would never be told

Trying to keep it a secret,

Until the day Im grey and old

But even then, im told

Id be hunted down

Its a special club you joined

Please dont take a look around

And Im punching the ground

The place where souls can be found

If I knock any harder then

Im sure I can reach soft lead

in a sense i've lost my way
----------------------------------------------------



Typing a typography

Trying to make you proud of me

And the apple fell off

the wrong side of the tree

Cooking up excuses

To find a thousand uses

For the space in the garden

where that tree used to be

And it useless to produce this

Sad melancholy

Thinking that you would choose this guy

Instead of choosing me

But three is a crowd

when its kind of underground

Working on my technique

And refining my own sound

The loud noises seem to start to

play with my ears

Distorting my vision

Making demons disappear

Then I guess its clear now

Just what is left to find

Looking for a correlation

While i'm loosing my mind

And its this kind of day

which makes me wish for more

Picking up mouldy chips

off the kitchen floor

Because there comes a time

Where it succumbs to what?

Beating up my own self

Alone in a parking lot

And the slot in the cash machine

Where my card is meant to go

Burns a hole in the socket

bigger than the hole in my pocket

In a wholistic view

I should really see it through

But now at least there is a hole

in which the sun can shine through



As a window on the world

Just like a gap in my life

Laughing at all the torment

and enjoying the strife



And I am kinder than most,

in more than a few ways

Cast back your mind

and then think of better days

As chilling in a bar

is some good for a while

Then return to home alone

And then starve myself to show

I can do it on my own

but I would appritiate some help

The last thing I want is

to deteriate my health

As the wealth of knowlage

only extends to some

And I never get a phone call

from my own sweet mum

But to some this is an advantage

to living away from home

And im giving up the hobbies I had

since I was 8 years old

To hold you tighter than this

is like a dagger in my side

It might as well be some stigmata

For the pain just wont subside

As fore play is exclusive

to white wedding brides

Because in the Middle East I would

have a thousand wives

And its this type of situation

that I contemplate a lot

And I am back where I began

Sat in a parking lot

The white lines seem to remind me

of times gone by

I think im still a man

but I now choose to cry

Its a media creation

that masculity is soft

Ive never been in a fight but

ive got a habit of getting lost

Crossing things of a list

that doesnt exist

So I can never remember issues

that I might as well miss

Kissing the ground where

my footsteps Always seem to land

but now The situation with this girl

Is getting really of hand

But im glad for the experience

Ignoring that its tedious

Its another 4 excuses

to just walk away

Instead I write back,

making it look as though its her

Never appritiating the realtiy

that we are both getting hurt

The dirt thrown in my face

Could be seen as a disgrace

For the amount of pain it caused

it could have been a can of mace



As the cumbersome tasks

take longer than I remember

I cant speak them kind of words,

so I write it in a letter

But my hand writings jaded,

Somewhat because of the cold

Sat here for so long with

my head in a plaster mould

When im older than this, shit,

im sure ill look back

Talking about back in the day,

blazing a 20 chronic sack

But here I go again as

it always comes back to weed

The amount of money I have

there should be other things that I need

But fuck the priority of what to eat for tea

I can worry about these issues

when im older than 33,

but now in this time im only 21 years of age

Time to start with another rap

And it is time to turn the page

..

he can't spell, bless him.