Jesus and all the Christ,

Nobody knows what hit you–

You don't know how it goes, do you?

You don't know how it goes, you know

Jesus and all the Christ;

The beauty of the boy, the vice

Nobody knows what hit ya,

You don't know how it goes;

How could ya?

Jesus and all the Christ;

The glamour and the lights,

How could you?

How could you roll the dice?

(I'm a rich man)

How could you

Let's see what those two blue sparkling pools will do for you.

Unknown.

Banking on nostalgia

And new media

I was old in ‘02,

I get all the best lines, the best monologues

I have the best eyes,

The best times

Did I tell you you were stupid?

If you didn't, you should have.

I told you you were golden.

That shouldn't have happened.

I'll see you on the backlot

(I'm still on the backlot)

Only

If you

really

Want it

broken links

And broken heart club

Broken art

And harmful arm cuts

broken arms

And broken clauses

Stop it now,

Before I hurt you

Stop it now,

Before it's over

Stop the tape,

Then overdub it

Stop it,

Don't come any closer

Couth, gridiron club

Got it all done, like you wanted.

You know that's a magician.

I figured.

Well, have at it.

Have at what?

That's the spirit.

It always was.

Access Point.

Ah, fuck.

Password.

[Redacted]

Access granted.

FUCK.

Bracelet, four

For ten toes

Awkward

Leaving it over,

And smoothing it undone,

Awkward,

Ten more honor pageants

‘Who are you‘ awards?

Tell them i'm coming on,

Coming on

Coming on faster

Faster

Faster

Health heart, made of

Horse follicle,

Tender, that one

Are you - now South

Greetings, arms wide

Have you or harder

Harder

Harder

Thank you

That was a good orgasm.

I thought so.

Have another.

Half an aspirin in all our water.

Half a dose of the worst coming over

The war's finally over

But here comes another

The worst of it

The microwave silence

The hearing heart gallows

The,

The,

The

Unpolished,

Who unwavering calls halfheartedly

Into the night,

And gallops forward,

drinking syrup from a

handpicked tampon

Now

Who wanted that one?

Classless heifer.

(An ugly)

Who drove out here to Harlem

To no parking at all?

Why bother?

Why call?

No voicemail storage, you know

Remote control access,

And still covered up softly

Go whip your toupe back on

For seconds

Four seconds more,

I'll have your head with it,

The plant based ready whip

You want acid?

Ass and tits;

I've got leftovers and no husband,

But don't want yours, honey,

Mustard

Hot honey mustard.

Hot honey mustard.

Hot honey mustard.

Must have money to ride, huh?

come harder up Dawson's,

I'll bet you a crunch sandwich for lunch

Whispers of it after
had a manhattan

Left up

Left bastard.

Limp.

Time to finish that Tom Hanks movie.

Don't go, Tonto!

[Enter The Multiverse]

[The Festival Project ™ ]

The Complex Collective ©

The Fed's with the suds,

And meanwhile,

I'm all stocks and bonds

Stocks and bonds

What is the world

Where you do just whatever you want

Whatever you want.

(Whatever you want.)

I'll kill you before monday, you know;

All of you.

I got a jar of I'm sorry, and

–wait, are all models also prostitutes?

It was better when you wanted it all,

You wanted it all

For the television thrown out the window

Top of the Tarmac

God, you want soap,

You want water

Did you want cold water?

Do you want a warm oven?

Don't cover it all;

Just ignore her,

Then tell the whole story

Why is Billie Ellish my kid sister?

Miserable, Miserable

Miserable,

Miserable,

Misery,

Misery,

Miser,

Misery!

I got a whole jar of “shut the fuck up before i call the cops on you.”

I got a whole jar of “just stop with that awful ass music”

I got a whole modem for internet service,

A whole home how,

All homewreckers:

You don't know how it really goes, do you?

Did you?

Do you want it?

Do you want tik tok,

Tik tok,

An arm clock,

Or a wristwatch?

Just watch.

That's a good adjustment.

Whoever wrote this was judge honorable.

Whoever wrote this was misdjudged and just ugly

The color of fudge,

Holding grudges,

And much darker stepping off the subway after a long run;

—and does dubstep

(but hates programming drums)

If i can see your spine through your back,

you're beautiful.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©