the devil and I

Why so sore
why so broken
why in the middle of the night
do I mouth these words unspoken
why so sick
why so weak
why so permanently
left behind

the mirror before me
laughs at my despair
the world itself
laughs at my need for repair
I am abused and humbled daily
strip-mined, clear-cut
wasted, neglected
I stopped relying
on my own strength long ago
who can help me now?

for those who see no need
for a God
good for you
but as for me
I need someone to stand between
the devil and I.

dept. of false hope (bad religion)

Welcome, my son,
to where the work is never done
and the hungry are seldom ever fed

the department of false hope
is a proving ground for dopes
and they'll grind your tiny bones to make their bread

so hold your head up high, forgotten man
tomorrow won't be made for you
and everybody's gotta try to lend a helping hand
for god and man, there's nothing more to do

it crackled on the radio
through bright plumes of the sun
the announcer said the age of faith was dead

though the adolescent nation
was just looking for salvation
the beast of reason reared its ugly head

so hold your head up high, forgotten man
tomorrow's not for me and you
and everybody's gotta try to lend a helping hand
for god and man, there's nothing more to do

from your cradle of destruction
with the poorest of instruction
and the merest sliver of a tune
oh, you managed somehow to muddle through

so hold your head up high, forgotten man
tomorrow's not for me and you
and everybody's gotta try to lend a helping hand
for god and man, there's nothing more to do

there is nothing more . . .

humble

Insanity is boring into me
I had every advantage
every day
I bred nothing but hate
what is this belligerent ride
this beautiful
dangerous
death machine
what is this manic panic
unpardonable sin
what is this hate
this noise
this place of war
what is it
still in the air
between you and I
what is the reason
for this midnight lunacy
now I know
why I can't sleep at night
it is you
riding though me
with a cold touch
and a broad smile
striking fear
striking so much fear
girls like you
do nothing
but humble men like me.

when I get old (descendents)

*What I'm finding out.  And no, I don't still sleep on the floor.*


What will it be like when I get old
will I still hop on my bike
and ride around town
will I still want to be someone
and not just sit around
I don't want to be like other adults
cause they've already died
cool and condescending, fossilized
will I be rich
will I be poor
will I still sleep on the floor
what will it be like when I get
what will I be like when I get
what will it be like when I get old

will I still kiss my girlfriend
and try to grab her ass
will I still hate the cops
and have no class
will all my grown-up friends say
they've seen it all before
they say hey act your age
and I'm immature
will I do myself proud
or only what's allowed
what will it be like when I get
what will I be like when I get
what will it be like when I get old

will I sit around and talk about the old days
sit around and watch TV
I never want to go that way
never burn out
not fade away
as I travel through my time
will I like what I find
what will it be like when I get
what will I be like when I get
what will it be like when I get old.

goodbye EP3

The EP3 was the European Civic Type R, sold in the U.S. as the Si (with a detuned engine).  Made at the Swindon plant.  I just sold mine.