Timothy Lawton

7-18-2002

Viral spiral of a twisted age
Visions decisions manifesting our rage
Disturbing testaments to our man made cage
Look at the fires burning see the molested child squirming
As the innocent try to find a way out
Fleeting cheating the Wall St. kings
Inside cyanide our Satanic flings
Apocalyptic postcards of everyday things
See the deluge raining hear the good men straining
As we all struggle not to drown
Know the end is coming
It’s almost time to start running
The Lord’s about ready to take his crown
Fester jesters in statesman’s clothes
Slying lying adorned with Pinnochio nose

9-30-93
Your hopes are wicked and your dreams are in hell
Sweet pure woman casting your witch’s spell
Capturing me in the chains of your slavery
Preying on my thirst breaking the skin affectionately
Revealing the bloody dagger once hidden in the bosom of your embrace
Innocent veil hiding the fiery evil your tongue so longs to taste
Tearing the fibers which engage the very fabric of my being
Such satisfaction in my writhing cries and screams
Loving not so much the insufferable pain to which you have me resigned
But to the power you hold and the strings by which you have me entwined

8-20-1991
A storm so far away
So far
The peasants live around the castle
The Moon in the late day Sun
Iron boundary
The highway’s sound
Low live the people
High tree hills
So far
The water runs caress the rock
Even where the grass lies
Ahh!! The people
But we fly away
Some death a healthy part of life amongst the trees
Scars
Thinner
Rock strewn hills
Indescribable
Again the storm

6/2/2006
I’m no Job
But I’m sick of watching the worst people getting everything
I’m no Job
But I’m so damn sick of watching assholes make out like kings
Intelligence counts for nothing and kindness makes one seem like a fool
All my efforts amount to nothing because repetition repeats and the world spirals cruel
I no better than to pray for the end
But I can’t stand watching the liars continue to lie and the whores continue to bend
I know better than to say Jesus has become just a name
But we now worship those who make the blind blinder and the lamest of the lame
Miracle materials make for malicious mystery
Where apocalypse construction will end the repeated repetition of mankind’s history
I’m no Job
But I’m sick of watching the worst people getting everything
I’m no Job
But I’m so damn sick of watching peasants walk around presenting themselves as kings
The rain falls on the wicked as well as the righteous
And I’m tired of watching the wicked get wet