Offthewallogy

The colors… Oh, the horror.
All expensive green and bloody red,
The blacks and blues have sunken in.
And you… yes you display them all,
But not in a creative way,
An uncanny display of your infatuation with yourself.
Now take this quite literally…
The chalk is erasing the board.
Who the fuck has been drawing the lines? Not I…
Presenting the darker side of things has become so terribly easy.
Of all that you appreciate you’ve adopted nothing.
Congratulations… you’ve fixed me.
I’m perfect, a living work of art…
An awkward little picture for your entertainment wall.
Brick by brick I’ll build my empire.
Brick by brick I’ll wear the old walls…
Brick by brick I’ll build my empire.
Brick by brick I’ll tear the old walls down.
What’s the point of expression when the medium erases its point of
existence?
More than flesh and more than scales, a creature of another kind.
Our point of existence…
More than flesh and more than scales, a creature of another kind.
More than chords and more than scales, a creature of another kind.
Please, the evil things are easy. Of all that you «appreciate»…
Now, the evil part is easy. How about adopting some class for a change?
What’s the point of expression when the artist abuses its point of existence?