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death seems old and cliche like a Rockefeller or a Nixon the true fear of change Mr Crowley has seen his share of change Mr. Crowley is holding up the world in the corner of my eye my rifle scaring people high hopes selling crack cocaine on the street corner its all scrap too fucking long I can't wait till spring down to ground zero ridiculous roman arches a collapsing santa callus something new from wallmart a bell ringer plugging it in watching the timer the doomsday clock not knowing what to do trading options still trying to figure it out a guy in LA a funny guy choking on it took two times burrito selling cars smuggling drugs his wife was cheating on him with me total collapse a hair transplant on the credit card trading baseball cards watching the news lost everything jump start in the street twenty bucks for my peanuts I never fell that fucking far tilting head meat grinder grinding the stones I can't focus I can't remember your face anymore the final analysis the size of the customer rock and roll making a living not being able to survive you can see that thing doctor lawyer indian chief if I don't make the rocks then they don't get made a washer and a dryer an okie changing my clothes after lunch how can I live like this I don't know she said reach to the stars big foot blood falling down she said shit snare drum rim click the tanks are rolling backwards delicious and piping hot freedom she was the one who cried and she will buy the world those long black boots she says hipster doochebag assembly line politics a dogcatcher the face of the clown as she clutches a pillow coney island she worked so hard on her delivery limbo dancing knife set buying she leans on the wall as the cars race down the street vibrating doll she cries for humanity as she walks down the dimly lit bridge they filled him with bullets atrocity tale she is making a social movement wolfman silent night  the lack of specificity fuck you the cannibals are practicing their newly required manners their mothers would be fucking proud trident cartoon holly shit be honest he is not a man of violence both so different a thrill of a lifetime he was into baseball a scar down the nose its in my pocket the capture and the bother with her big brown beaver it had a hell of an eye ever floating live grooving in the tank of Vaseline she is sure she is in the right place jane with her funky little addiction lester is chasing the monkey I am pulling out my horns from my green bag they are long and sharp and hard like a little boy's dreams of woman stumbling like Beelzebub hooves and sprouts like the jolly green giant octopus lester the child molester is washing dishes at the local perkins and selling weed to undercover female narcotics officers he is going away for a long time this time longer than the navy with his dog tags and flea dip suicide reading about it in the usa today Diogenes please pray for me the roars of the wicked lester is watching tv he is trying to change his mind you better step lively ask him nicely to go away lester is watching all star wrestling and he is jumping up and down he is shouting john 3:16 ignorant masses lester is watching miss America eat some lobster and biscuits and beans watching her wipe her mouth on the table cloth miss america is smiling for lester she is smiling for pepsi cola and wall street diet pills lester is helpless because he can't control the game this is the time for lies a time for television and fake suntans lester is not sure that he is still a man every nook and cranny of this town she is so satellite with the