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KARAOKE TEXTY c >>
Citizen Fish >>
Growling as I smile at stares from the other site of street. Is it the speed I'm walking at, or the shoes upon my feet? I couldn't afford the Baseball boots. That's not a game I play. And if you'd rather hang about, I won't get in your way. If the words you backhand to your friends were meant for me to hear, I'll show you a better way to spend your breath over a beer, or a coffee. Come on mutant head! Let's drop the social games, call the bluff, call it enough, but quit calling each other names. There's hardly any difference in the nature of the threat. Some like to be remembered by the reaction they can get. Others need security in a certain social set. Both are too aware of what they still yet have to get. Is no one ever satisfied with being what they are? If you show me all your barbwire, I'll only show you scars. But tell me where you got it from, and what it costs in friends, and I'll start to get a picture of a person, not a trend. Ignorance and affinity to outside influence rejects the inner feeling at anyone's expense. What provoked attack was the nature of defense. The weak and strong in knowing that such strength is all pretence. So while you're staring at me, I'll be grinning back at you. At various intensities we'll both know that it's true that what each other represent is an image we've been fed. If I'm a fucking waste of space, then you're a mutant head. So let's discuss these attitudes and find some common ground. Just doing that is ground enough to exorcise the sound of insults, sights of malice, inbred scorn and ignorance. Once beyond the posing we can find the relevance.
