Dont Speak, Dont Expect to be spoken to

Why talk? Hot air that just robs the world of useful purpose.

Things continue to slide naked down the razor blade of life.

Ow, my ass hurts just thinking about that.

What a crock of shit these continuing days are.

Pink Floyd- Wish You Were Here - Kinda sums it all up -


So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, Blue skys from pain. Can you tell a green field From a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell? And did they get you to trade Your heros for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change? And did you exchange A walk on part in the war For a lead role in a cage? How I wish, how I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls Swimming in a fish bowl, Year after year, Running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here.