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FOOD FOR THOUGHT.

Welcome to my blog!

Hello my name is: Icicle Audacity. All I see are ghxsts. I'm the misguided stride for self improvement - a sadistic, futuristic machine. A hollow cold emitted through vibrant lights, it’s a warm as wool winter but I’ve got a chill I can’t shake. This is what I am & I think I’m fine in my own misguidance. My bones are frozen, my marrow has turned to ice - my body is just a body, a corpse without a head. I'm just a vessel & my brain has long been dead.

Dylan McAmmond
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"That's really the only thing that matters to me, is that I make art for a living. And if I make art for a living... I win."

undead

“How low can I keep pretending to be? That all the stars in the sky could mean something to me. Heaven will open up if I live on my knees. A man of many words, but of few deeds.

Leave the virtue of pity, but we live with the shame. So scared to dream in a world with no sunlight. When you wake up, you know it’s darker than last night. Quickly we forget, sacrifice gone by. Born to walk away, been walking my whole life.”


Misery ’round the world is so well known, not so much to the kings but to the peasants below. ‘Cause that’s what we are in the mind of the law, forefathers grave-spinning as they drop their jaws – like they drop our jobs, kick us out of our homes. When we get too sick and old they tie us down in the road, insurance isn’t given to those who need it most. Waiting in a prison for the fate of other ghosts, where the world can forget all of those who died. The nightnurse smells of death, standing at your bedside – repress the youth and suppress the old.  The system puts its victims in a permanent mold, but what can we do with our limited freedom but be slaves to the grave in our capitalist kingdom? The shit you spin is merely verbal masturbation – How’s it feel to be the leader of a hypocritic nation?

We’re only as free as they tell us we can be, well I’m pretty fuckin’ sick of this hypocrite’s democracy. A fist to the air brings a bullet to the knees, to the rabid Machine, serving Lady Hypocrisy. We’re only as free as they tell us we can be, well I’m pretty fuckin’ sick of this hypocrite’s democracy. A fist to the air brings a bullet to the knees – to the rabid Machine, serving Lady Hypocrisy.

There’s lead in the bed where your children sleep and a family is fighting to find something to eat. Bosses gotta cut costs, ’cause Cadillacs ain’t cheap, so they send it ‘cross the sea where it’s basically free. Expenses may be cut but so are jobs – you can put up a wall, but you’ll still be robbed by the Man who defends you, who one day’s gonna end you. Slaves to the Machine are gonna break and bend you.

Suffering is fine, just so long as it’s not mine. That’s the world we’re living in, the nation so divine. I’ll rage against the president, the government, and more as long as they’re still bringing down the nation I adore.

Suffering is fine, just so long as it’s not mine. That’s the world we’re living in, the nation so divine. I’ll rage against the president, the government, and more – motherfucker, hit the lock, because the rage is at your door.

by Dylan

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Zara - Truth.March 23, 2011 - 10:02 pm

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