Monday, April 27, 2009

Goodbye Ink and Paper Dix-Huit

Controlling substances:


If it wasn't for me you wouldn't have anything.

I'm snorting through the walls around me.

I'd like to stick a syringe in your arm.

If it wasn't for me you wouldn't know the urge.

It's rubbish, the rush, an average girl, you'd do anything to please.

It makes me cringe, I'd stick my syringe right in your arm.

Everyone is saying you're not ready for me.

You move in the wrong circles.

Since that day I inhaled, stay clear from me.

Don't jump in my way.

Are you ready for them?

Whatever recipes you find, add mushrooms.

We'll be racing.


I'm jumping a train to Amsterdam.

Under the ocean.

I saw a railway, I swear, a mermaid pointed out the way.

A substitute sweeter and whiter than sugar.

If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even have the urge.

You'll move in the wrong circles, you'll be stuck with schwag.

I'd like to stick my syringe in your arm.

I jump through a hoop.

Abandoning circles.

If it wasn't for me you wouldn't have anything.

You don't owe them attention, pay them in ganja instead.

Purify your circle.

Bad fringe.

It makes me cringe, Soap Bar.

I am plunging my syringe into your arm.

I very much doubt you feel it the same way anymore.

What took me so long, to discover snow?

An average girl, who you try and please.

Now I am the center of the universe.

I hop around on the bed.

Everything belongs to me.

Control, I have too much, I know I am everything, but nothing is me.

It is all for me, existence.

Power "tripping".

If it wasn't for me he wouldn't feel anything.


I built a snowman.

If it wasn't for me you wouldn't have blow.

Welcome to the fourth layer.

I'd like to remove my syringe from your arm.

Since that day, I lost my will to survive, got a little back, I'm stuck with methadone.

I'm ready for you.

Come down with me, we'll have a hangover.

It makes me cringe leaving my highs behind.

Downers from now on.

Laced everything.

Materials of poor quality, not me.

I'd like to share my spliff.

Snow, pure, white, easily a waif when used properly.

What for?

An average girl with a kind of heaven, a kind of hell.

I suppose you knew right away when we first tread upon hills of gold, and silvery mounds.

Since the day I left my baby, a sweet girl named Poppy.

I gave you my syringe.

Gaga girls, they love you.

What is so great about you?

I don't see it.

The only thing worth anything is me.

Pills only take me so far.

Are you better than me? No, I don't think so.

I suppose you know because we went to together.

Hand in hand.

No you didn't and no you don't.

No you didn't and no you don't.

No we didn't and no we won't.

We sit in between old car parts.

"Do you want to jump the train with me?"

No I didn't and no I don't.

No matter what we'll be together. I'll never give up what makes me forget.

Excuse my excessive blogging, earlier was inadaquate.


  1. I really like this one! Clever use of metaphors. And you're right: sometimes the highs of love feel too good to be natural. And when the lows come, it's like a bad trip or something. Except worse because it's real...

  2. I see you picked up on the underlying meaning, but It was also more of a satire on drug use (note excessive slang terminology) and the painfulness of addiction. I actually had to look up terms in a dictionary. Je suis une neuneu.

  3. You're a nerd. ;)

    But seriously, I'm glad you're expanding your versatility and adding a little humor to your work.