F.D.A approved nano-free bite sized chunks

Songs (listen)

Everyone's Around~ Pleasure Menu~ Sip,Sigh,and Drag~ Broken End of a Long Stick~ Wash~ Pretty Face~ Walking on Air~ Based on Suspicious Facts~ The What If~ Simpler Mind~ Oh, to Sing About~ Fishsticks~ Still a Victim~ Smile~ No One Gets Away~ Only One Rave~ Show Yourself~ A Nickel Says~ On the Floor~ The Flood~

Tools Of Revolution




Everyone's Around~

Haven't the days been something else. you found it hard to be yourself. when everyone's around. blank faces, blank faces. \ the times get shorter everyday. dreams get longer all the same. but what's to change. and what's to remain. \ kick in the teeth; i'm down and out. a joking laugh to stand up again. so call it quits, and fall asleep.\\\casey\\\

Pleasure Menu~

come on, come on. try me again. \ I watched for the sun while you slept. alchohol and egyptian goddess. remains of the night fade away. overcome by lucidity. trrying to stay awake. i can't face the end of this night. you have me and you don't even know it. \ i feel the warmth of your body, as you turn away from me. i can't help but move towards your sweet, silent smile. i pray that you're dreaming of me. do i make you smile in your dreams? or only in mine? \ I look out the window again. horizons signal the end of the night. falling asleep in this bed where we lay. consumed with this hatred of morning. then you awake from your sleep. that's when i miss you the most. \ you have the keys. you have them now. your pleasure menu sir. what would you like? \ i missed you today. but i crumpled it up and threw it away. i didn't call. i fell asleep instead. \ is it a shame to lay yourself to waste in a pool of beauty? do you have something better for me? \\\brad,ryan,casey\\\

Sip,Sigh,and Drag~

cross your eyes and watch your cigarette burn down. tighten your grip on a warm cup of coffee. enjoy them. this is you vacation. silent and complete. \ you can now close your eyes and let the breeze aleviate you. sip, sigh, and drag. \ kiss away another lonesome empty day. forget about the shit that follows close behind you. caffine and nicotine are all you really need, to get you by. \ it's not like you're an antisocial individual with no one to call. \ don't fret or bother, watch your cigarette burn down. it's your turn to be taken out of context. when i wake up all alone, i've got something always there to help me through the pain. \ coffee and cigarettes will keep me company when you're not there.\\\brad,ryan\\\

Broken End of a Long Stick~

give me a face not mine. give me a voice not mine. give me a heart not mine. \ maybe just one heart that i might not feel a step behind. maybe just one heart. \ again i walk and it's a quarter mile from sleep to people. i tend to talk with no company or preamble. then alone i sit, surprised to see just one coffee. but i;ll wait a bit to see if someone will join me. \ and again i'll walk to a bed as hard as a brick. \ though i seem to stalk the broken end of a long stick. \ give me a face not mine. give me a voice not mine. give me a mind not mine. maybe just one mind that i might not stray the fruit from the rind. \ it always rains a half inch from the ground. my head is hot but my feet are wet. it always drowns the ambient traffic sound. i hear my heartbeat, but rhythm is never met. \ another day and i'm on my forty-first cigarette. children play and sing of little miss moffet. so much like me, she eats, and fears the spiders. so much me like , there's no one else beside her. \ so much like me, her whey is curdled and thick. \ so much like me, she always takes the broken end of a long stick. \ maybe finally, the entire world has outgrown me. maybe i'm not humble enough, this bitter, co-dependant flea. maybe i'm only alone inside my cast. maybe i'm the reason why my families never last. \ I'm runnung out of clever tricks; i'm running out of broken sticks.\\\the Morhol\\\


I don't want fresh paint on my walls. my hands and face are dirty, and my clothes are months from clean. I lay in bed and let my music wash me. watch me. the marks left will fade by themselves. in my mind I construct a code of conduct to justify my life, evolving as I do, they rarely speak out of turn. always at my defense, and I at it's; we compliment and define each other. (chorus: my insides: tell me that I'm beautiful, tell me that I break no rules, tell me that I love myself, tell me I.) I stroll in Century City. absorb the people and the sights. my projections, inventory preparations, and terms to work with. one by one we're introduced as strangers in the same bed. under covers, we get to know each other. incestuous masturbation with a "how do you do?" I will not wash. I will not paint. I feel no guilt. I am a saint.\\\ryan\\\

Pretty Face~

I need to touch her and still, she's in the next booth. she wants to help me and yet i wish that i could smoke \ in here, an empty girl will fill a seat with beauty. when a rampant hunger pulls her here. she seems familiar and i dream i thanked her for the coffee, in a dream where i was good enough, \ I always forget a pretty face. no gesture; i'm reminded of a movement that she made before she stopped. no laughter, just a kiss to make bearable. forgotten such a pretty face. \ I want to know her when she sits alone in bed. at home in my mind, she lays content. i tip her well, a silent wink, to meet me as i sleep.\\\ryan\\\

Walking on Air~

A better way to lift me up. the usuals's been shot to fuck. just wait a while. it comes around. and so you'll find that so do i. \ the grounds the funnest place to be. leave me be. leave me be. a bloody smile and tattered knees. been kicked down once or twice before. i'm at your door. awaiting company per se. you always say i'd be a mess if i had the time to run away. \ apocolyptic glowing eyes that burn me down and show my other side. you said you'd wait till i get back. and now i'm here but where are you? \ i'll take my place back on the street, to lay beneath the treading feet. they say it's like walking on air, and so do i. they say it's like walking on air, and so do i. \ And if i needed a hand to find my way back home, all i'd need is the outside light on. \\\casey\\\

Based on Suspicious Facts~

Based on suspicious facts. where you're goin and where you're at. it's hard to see which way to go, while takin the open road. she's got the muscle to hustle every guy in town. she put the moves on me and now i'm buried alive. \ I think my head is about to blow. death round here's movin' to slow. critical masses are released. \\\matt\\\

The What If~

Simpler Mind~

Oh, to Sing About~


Still a Victim~


why don't you smile for me/ you know i'll always be there for you/you're out to find the truth but what's the truth to you/you shed the past and spread your wings to live for you/ but, why can't you smile for me just like you used to do./i think you look for something hard to find/ good luck with all your troubles and thanks for all your time///casey///

No One Gets Away~

Only One Rave~

Show Yourself~

A Nickel Says~

On the Floor~

The Flood~

don't look at the camera, suspend your disbelief. it's hard to do with time between. who am I to prejudise a love with she not real? I make it fake then real again, and call the harlot names. she doesn't feel what I don't think or move without my thought. a torture thick with spite that I don't stop with sleep. incarnate hell on earth or heaven steps away, with hunger for immortality pulling strings. to sip irish coffee and sing of revolution, my joy erases doubt. when luck is down and science calls, do I turn towards betrayal. to cheat a love affair with greed would crumble brick, and flood the hurried streets. I float from rooftop to crowded docks of smiling fisherman. Pulling my drowning debtors from the waters of old school rules. Repressed beneath, just bad memories of slave-drivers and thieves. Outnumbered by the free and poor.

Email: ryanthetourist@hotmail.com