Canary Love

lestack:

Monstrous Masterpiece

Frankenstein’s not feeling so fine,
Cranky guys with pitchforks want my behind,
They’ll drink my blood like fine wine,
They won’t blink before they dine on my insides.
I was in a bind, I tried to confide,
in Dr. Frankenstein but I’d lost my mind.
I began to cry, I thought I’d die,
I ran far and wide to avoid homicide.
I left no sign, in fear they’d find
Another reason to despise my kind,
They would rise in time to grind my eyes
As the sun shines high in the sky,
I’ll ride the tide like a dolphin against the wind,
But abide the nine lives of my feline friend,
But I’ve died ten times and still no end
Dr. Frankenstein’s by my side with will to mend.
His skills are set, you will repent
We sent science to do what religion meant,
what God can’t, the sins men all forget
What happens when the world sinks in debt,
We will begin to think in the way of storge
The poor that starve deserve more today,
The words we carved have worn away
We wore our hearts like whores getting paid,
We laid our parts like cords across the floor,
We may have burnt the popcorn of this metaphor,
And we hope your love will be more straight forward,
But some doves just want to date other birds.
Fuck your hate and any rumours you have heard.
It’s luck that gays humour the crude shit you’ve learned,
Instead of cutting your face, and taking turns
Macing any disgraceful waste of space, and watching it burn.
Sir, you will pay for your forgery and heresy.
Boys like us are born for similarity,
We stay sore from your shitty insincerity,
You say variety, we see rarity.
Your life is nothing but a parody,
Of a corny horror movie, no longer scary, only watched for hilarity,
By kids laughing hysterically, out of pity or irony.
We’re like Mary Shelley when we pen our monstrous masterpiece,
The Modern Prometheus, don’t even test this, on our beast shit,
Our greatest achievement yet, dismissing any threats, 
While you get wrecked by this satanic wretch,
Then try saying we’re nothing but a vile insect,
A disgusting flee that can’t vanish, but Victor dissects:
Did I request thee, maker from clay, to mold me?
Did I solicit thee from darkness to promote me? 

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The first song off my new EP “Undead Friends”