Timothy Lawton

1/25/2007
No T.V. and no T.V. makes Timmy think a lot more
No wife and no wife makes Timmy think about whores
But be disappointed in the end
Sure they know how to bend but not love
They know what to tend yet, but not what to touch
They find the parts but not the heart
They know the moves but not the grooves and only know where to start
So no T.V. and no wife make Timmy something something
And no T.V. and no wife make Timmy something something
But not again
When will my insanity ever end?
No T.V. and No T.V. make me
Something something
no wife and no life
leave me suffering

1/17/2007

God, sometimes I feel as if I’m in the depths of the ocean
In the darkness beyond the light
Crushed by the waters of experience
The only life down here trickles in from up above
That world where people live
I’m alive, but I have nothing of my own
It’s as if I’m a social parasite
Leeching off the blood of others
No triumphs of my own
No smiles are mine
Frustration is my brood
Lonlieness my possession
The only life I see is from the lights of others
Time is a burden, memory a pain
Trying not to expect to be disappointed again
Hope has made me look the fool a thousand times
Truth has revealed the darkness of humanity
Goodness is not the heart of men
Their light is a burning flame that reduces all around it to ash
Their reality a lie
When they smile it’s evil
When they shine it’s only a reflection of fire
Maybe I should content myself with the frigid black of the abyss
Their false light is only an image of demonic thoughts
Their surface world has never known the rays of the Son
May I close my eyes and know your truth
May I endure the pressure until I see your shine

1/23/2007

The American holocaust now thirty-four years and counting
The slaughtered, the butchered, the casualties are mounting
Our death camps in hospitals and non-descript office buildings
Those factory assembly lines so deadly and chilling
The humanitarian Nazis excuse their atroceties
Supposing their superiority imposing their sins upon society
Forty-five million dead and we’re still counting
Slaughtered, butchered, the casualties mounting
Now made God with life or death decisions
The surgeon a murderer in calculated precision
Kill, kill it is our right
Slay, slay, it’s out of sight
If it is not born it has no life
These wasted treasures beyond all price
The American holocaust burning in the back of our mind
Methodical doctors doing the business of Mengele kind
How the Grim Reaper’s sickle mows in routine operation
Harvesting the dispossessed of a self-centered generation
Choosing who’s part of humanity
Killing in convenient vanity
Claiming the right to say what’s alive
Believing if you’ve never been born you can never die
Forty-five million children denied a name or a tomb
Ripped from the false sanctuary that is the womb
Champions of freedom and the master race
Maintaining irresponsibility by filling mass graves