RXxx (Expiration Date) - 10/ ? / '05

Frustration from ignorance
like a cancer,
aggresion spreads until I find an answer.
kids are dead in brains expression.
Fists full of force
nerves hurt
complications in verbal artillery
it only gets worse.
Like bullets loaded to disperse,
brain damage is intricate in process to reverse.

Such tremors trigger middle finger
to shock and resussitate you thru the ringer.
Electrocution to cease growth of desease.
Education did not work
so we flooded your generation
with FDA experimental medication.
Degradation impulses conciousness to embrace an ulser,
because I could not help her
she never found the shelter...
Her head melted.
My eyes exploded,
like a colt .45 loaded
Her grazed lips locked onto cock, so tight
her air passages got blocked,
body launched into epeleptic shock;
an experation date, coupled with dinner and a movie,
just to properly execute on final farewell.

These gloomy lunatics will shoot
for heaven or hell,
weither theyre going to fall, or if they drive to crawl,
back up to the top.
They reveal wrists to blade and chop off,
amidst this kiss...
My lip ring is caught in her tissue.
The piercing pain from inheriting another strangers issue
is nothing new.
Integrity inside of me grows true,
just as sure as, precut, your blood flows
a beatiful shade of blue.
While everyone else sticks around to get laid,
all the lifers long for is to help your satisfactory smile
find means for revival and reinvigoration.
For me, it hurts worse with abscence of reciprecation.

Having a sickness without a name,
sewing up stiches for ungreatful bitches with a quickness
is how I kick game.
(I am) Impulsively assisting until driven insane...
Nice when we first meet, but in middle stride I brave
for your deceit or propensity to leave
out crucial details, as you balance
accross the first and second rails.
(It is) difficult to maintain a neutral perspective,
as your free fall to that third rail appears elective...
And, hey, now youre electric! 30,000 volts coarse thru,
engraved within the restrictions of your own veins!

A ton of teens seem to lack a common sense of immortality.
Death means a reality?
Can you feel the pulse (of fatality)?
What happens when youre drunk, young and dumb?
Tenderly, I remain sober, a bit older, and strong.
Is ignorance raw bliss?
The answer is blurry compared to the magnanamous nature of our wish.
Nope...
Fuck a needle, heres a sword. Body pierce with THIS!




Mike O'Toole

"The Farewell Tour of The Century" - 10/1/'05

The signature rests on your lips;
a Fallen Angel and Reckless Youth.
Carry on against all that binds you.
They made it seem so hard all along.
The secret is out.
I found the combination.
Now break the lock and rush the gates.
Sugar, don't look back from the now.
Breaking from convention
no matter how wrong,
we've made the right sound.
Follow it
to keep pace with this song.
A varied tempo resounds!
Tell me, what's more to let go
than all that surrounds?

Etched in this skin;
the standard of punk purity and
straight edge sin.
You remain smart while insane...
Like me.
You're beautiful, yet drained...
Like me.
You see the means to end
but confidently neglect to start...
Like me.
With ink, I'll dissect your heart.
Another line to bend...
Sleeping in the car again.
Pain from the weight...
Burns as it rips.
Maimed over the taste of crimson lips.

Delivering a jawbreaker or two,
killing the motherfuckers in front of you...
Or whatever it takes
to
stop oxygen being traded in for the color blue
(on your face).
Done my homework this time
and finally cleaned the table.
But am I ready, willing, and stable?
Stuff his face with cake and beat him too?
I'll wait 'till he first can swallow it all
then chew on the reality of the phrase
"I'm better than you."
Afterall, they only condem me because
they don't know who I am.
And once they do know, all they seem to
learn about themselves is
"I'm fifteen and life's a scam."
And somehow, blood is romantic
when it flows like the Hover Dam?

Bring me back down from this
angst-ridden rant towards the angst-prone.
This is a war zone, but
just soft enough, you own no violent bone
in your body.
Lost in a tough exterior,
artisticlly-minded thought is sobering
again.
Scribbled words make sense
amounting to zero.
But deep down in there, they possese
the power of a superhero.
It's just a matter of time
before you begin to fear
your own doubt.

Ink in warm veins...
Lips locked...
I can't exist as a concept or ideal.
All I am is what's real.
And we may be selective in the method
we choose to deal with passion,
but if we can touch the stars
we too can feel the defining actions
that bring us to our knees with good reason,
and leave love in traction from
the past's fatal desease.
This version of unity is the remedy
to all our unmet needs.
Set it off and you only need believe
these words you read.
They're all I have.
Am I more than you bargained for yet?


Mike O'Toole