Turd
.
sexta-feira, 30 de janeiro de 2009
quarta-feira, 28 de janeiro de 2009
segunda-feira, 26 de janeiro de 2009
domingo, 25 de janeiro de 2009
Biteeeeee HARD!!!
You don't know,
I sing these songs,
About you,
You don't know the the Pseudonyms,
I assume
You don't know the the Pseudonyms,
I assume,
For you.
Are you happy now?
That the Gods are dying.
Or do you dream of
(dont know this line)
You should be happier now,
with no one to pray to.
Or would I love to break your knees from begging and praying?
Bite Hard.
Well its a broken smile,
Breaking their hearts and breaking their minds.
Bite Hard.
A survival guide,
Edges and lines and we ride together,
Bite Hard.
May be lonelier now but im happy oh no honest.
Aint only alone but what would we talk about anyway,
I'd never resort to kissing your photo,
Honest,
I just had to see,
How the chemicals taste their honey.
Bite Hard.
well its a broken smile,
Breaking their hearts and breaking their minds.
Bite Hard.
A survival guide,
Edges and lines and we ride together,
Bite Hard.
We ride together,
We ride together,
We die together.
Bite hard.
ahhhhh
Bite hard.
ahhhhohhhh
Bite hard.
woaaaaaaah
Well I never,
Well I never
Well I never know,
Well I never,
I just had to,
I just had to taste their honey.
Bite Hard.
well its a broken smile,
Breaking their hearts and breaking their minds.
Bite Hard.
A survival guide,
Edges and lines and we ride together,
We ride together,
We die together.
sábado, 24 de janeiro de 2009
terça-feira, 20 de janeiro de 2009
sábado, 17 de janeiro de 2009
segunda-feira, 12 de janeiro de 2009
quinta-feira, 8 de janeiro de 2009
segunda-feira, 5 de janeiro de 2009
domingo, 4 de janeiro de 2009
Anti Smoking Help Line: Suicide
It's called suicide because it's your choice.
Give up smoking: 0 8008 700 700
Advertising Agency: Mercury 360, Bucharest, Romania
Art Director: Andrei Nedea
Copywriter: Cristian Scurtu
Photographer: Ola Bell
Creative Group Director: Liviu Turcanu
Published: December 2008
sábado, 3 de janeiro de 2009
The Frozen
The girls on the streets all look sad in this gold encrested little town
Why is that?
Isn't this the town of dreams?
yeah... But it comes with a price
It's a town that never does anything and yet takes all the credit
A place that promises so much,
But never has a thing to say,
Or a care in the world
There is no memory here
No dream for itself but the dreams of others
And all over the world you talk of a place you've only seen in re-runs
Immorallized for it's vice, and deified for it's carnage
(There's money in the air there)
(All you have to do is reach up and grab it)
In basements, garages, parking lots, empty lots, schoolyards, town cars, backrooms and more
Diamonds are fashioned from expectations and fortified on a steady diet,
of simple lives and red carpets
The ejaculating zeitgeist in nightvision
Culture is a punchline and emotion is blood in the water
The sharks here play games you can't fathom
But you flock here anyway
On college money and credit cards
Spend a week bullshitting yourself that it was all true
All of it
Just to watch in horror as it all falls to pieces under the gravity of reality
The stary eyes fade as it dawns on you
Nothing is garanteed
You are a part of the great divide
The choosen or the frozen
Now your mouth's away without a net
Your college money's a collage of debt
and your credit cards are all snapped in fucking half
time to wander a landscape bereft of mercy
This is now the backlot of your failed movie
A waking dream re-written without your permission
The real luster, the soft focus, the...
Soap opera vision is just the hindsight of a world who's been lied to
Of sad surfs and untouchable lords
You took a chance didn't you?
But chance didn't have a par for you this time around, maybe next life
And you can't even walk home
The girls on the streets all look sad in this cardboard cut-out little town
(huh) No wonder
That's the only thing here that's real
The gold is for fools
And paradise is lost but the hungry have never bothered with the cost
Day by day they fall away like rose pedals
Like ink that won't dry or fade
It just runs wild down cracks and crevices, grooves and folds
so I hope someone saves you before you get cold
I really do
Because the girls are all sad in this little black book
If you don't believe me, take a closer look
if you can
Why is that?
Isn't this the town of dreams?
yeah... But it comes with a price
It's a town that never does anything and yet takes all the credit
A place that promises so much,
But never has a thing to say,
Or a care in the world
There is no memory here
No dream for itself but the dreams of others
And all over the world you talk of a place you've only seen in re-runs
Immorallized for it's vice, and deified for it's carnage
(There's money in the air there)
(All you have to do is reach up and grab it)
In basements, garages, parking lots, empty lots, schoolyards, town cars, backrooms and more
Diamonds are fashioned from expectations and fortified on a steady diet,
of simple lives and red carpets
The ejaculating zeitgeist in nightvision
Culture is a punchline and emotion is blood in the water
The sharks here play games you can't fathom
But you flock here anyway
On college money and credit cards
Spend a week bullshitting yourself that it was all true
All of it
Just to watch in horror as it all falls to pieces under the gravity of reality
The stary eyes fade as it dawns on you
Nothing is garanteed
You are a part of the great divide
The choosen or the frozen
Now your mouth's away without a net
Your college money's a collage of debt
and your credit cards are all snapped in fucking half
time to wander a landscape bereft of mercy
This is now the backlot of your failed movie
A waking dream re-written without your permission
The real luster, the soft focus, the...
Soap opera vision is just the hindsight of a world who's been lied to
Of sad surfs and untouchable lords
You took a chance didn't you?
But chance didn't have a par for you this time around, maybe next life
And you can't even walk home
The girls on the streets all look sad in this cardboard cut-out little town
(huh) No wonder
That's the only thing here that's real
The gold is for fools
And paradise is lost but the hungry have never bothered with the cost
Day by day they fall away like rose pedals
Like ink that won't dry or fade
It just runs wild down cracks and crevices, grooves and folds
so I hope someone saves you before you get cold
I really do
Because the girls are all sad in this little black book
If you don't believe me, take a closer look
if you can
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