Rock

Music
Sets you free
Not free like liberty
It's a metaphor

Music
Takes control
It grinds and it binds and it turns you loose like a wake up call

Music
Makes you love
The dip and the swoon
The dance round the room with the rock hard cock and you're trying too much
Like an animal bound by the rhythm, depraved and ashamed of the poison

Music
Makes you hurt
The bandage wrapped tight round the wound as the heartache consumes and the tears run like rain through the torrents of pain and the depths of despair

And the bitches that swagger and sway with the breeze as they sing of the pain of being themselves
Of millions of dollars and drunk happiness but the pain of being alone cuts

Deeper than dicks with the bitches and bling who wear bitches and bling as they gyrate the eight year old girl
With the hero-fixed-eyes, the sweet little tutu, ten inch whore heels and an inky black tramp

And the music
Oh the music
It shines as the beacon of hope for the masses
A grotesque molasses
A whoring of assholes bleached white like the burn from the just-keep-going prick
The holistic sick
The vomit that oozes, that stinks and corrodes
As the tarted up hussy thrusts forward and moans

Won't you love me be near me my music makes you happy
Buy my shit watch my shit eat my shit
For the thrill of consumption
A tired old gumption
Played out on the crowds

Watch me live watch me die
Cheer my songs cheer my life

Pull the trigger buy the photo

Music
Sets you free
It climbs and it soars
Through bitches and whores
And deft motherfuckers forgetting the cause
That the purpose was freedom

Music
Takes control
Bound up in contracts
Of required inspiration
Two albums a year
A forced machination

But the music
Oh the music
A sad
Little
Note