Times have changed,

and no more does

does blood quell the

thirst of the masses.

Only controversy,

global drama.

Heralded by media

fueled by ratings.

The pen is the sword

and the slaughter

economic is

our blood sport now.

Step into the arena

with readied persona,

hire your writers,

and fight the shit fight.

yes, there are no

points, certainly.

Though winners

and losers, there are.

I'll make plans...

And it'll all go to shit.

What's new, right?

Our ride'll be late,

They lost our tickets,

We sit behind some giants.

The show was terrible,

the guy next to us won't

stop farting up a storm,

Can't leave fast enough,

I left my jacket,

your feet hurt.

Our room key won't work,

left the corkscrew at home,

but at least you're here.

you're all I....

I can't turn away from you,

And I cannot be untrue.

I am caught inbetween,

What is and what has been,

Between me and you.

I do not love you,

but I still do

I do not care for you,

but I still do

I do not miss you,

but I still do

I do love you,

and I love you too.

The crown of love

is growing heavy

on my head

a thousand pounds

sitting steady

on my head

stick around

or leave already

put it all

on my head.

I am a machine.

Pencil pushing,

Paper writing,

Printer using,

Office working,

eating, sleeping,

dreaming, waking,

repeating machine.

Am I alive?

Yes, but I...

Only live in my dreams.

I still remember the gentle caresses of your fist, the soft wet gnashing of my cheek

against my crooked and made crooked teeth.

Your straight forward nature

and the sick smell of fear

that I could never shake off.

A force of nature, anger incarnate,

son of Montezuma, even Cortez

would beg for deliverance.

I could never run fast enough,

I could never run far enough,

I could never fight hard enough.

Yet I am here. Yet I am better.

Every day is my revenge,

Every night I sleep in peace.

In my memories you are a monster

but in truth, you are nothing,

rotting in the barrio where I left you.