You're going to need something to hold onto,

Wanderer,

You old man, you old dog

[Knowing]

Gnawing on a ham sandwich

Half gone,

And half past disaster,

Mark 9—

All new time zone,

Get lost, before I bother you.

Looking backwards in time at the weakness I've had

Or the week

Or the month,

Or the year—

Fuck the mothballs in the closer

Over motorcycles, or you wanted to know

Where the hole in my heart was,

When I'm sure you're the one who bit it off.

Goddammit dude!

“The Worst Shapeshifter in History”

What the fuck, man!

What.

You sold your soul to be on Saturday Night Live?!

What else was I gonna do with it?

Ah, Gee—nothin' I guess!

I could be luckier I guess

To have gotten what I wanted

Waking up in a warm music studio

I could never call home

Without someone to love in it,

Or roll over onto,

What's a revolving door for a prophet :

Word to my Nothing and NoOne

Get away from me

All the demons you throw out

Come back to you

Redefining beauty in the age of faux vanity

Atrocities everlasting,

And atrocity exhibition,

—a aphantom on the train tracks.

An epiphany.

—Atrophy.

c o l o r s ft. Uptown A

& Happy Accidents

-Ū.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

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