Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

fuck you, george bush, for killing our children.
fuck you, george bush, for not protecting the people you convinced to elect you.
the worst kind of alcoholic, george bush, is a liar, and you are the worst kind of both.
fuck you, george bush, for feeding the rich.
fuck you, george bush, for stealing america.
fuck you, george bush, for being weak.
fuck you, george bush, for being an idiot.
fuck you, america, for electing george bush.
fuck you, george bush, for hijacking religion.
fuck you, george bush, for being incompetent.
fuck you, george bush, for shitting on dreams.
fuck you, george bush, for a generation of children in three countries (and counting) growing up without fathers.
fuck you, george bush, for lowering our standards.
fuck you, george bush, for promoting stupidity.
fuck you, george bush, right in the ass, with your smirk.
fuck you, george bush, for stomping our rights.
fuck you, george bush, and all your family cronies, too.
fuck you, george bush, for no-fly lists.
fuck you, george bush, for shaking your fists.
fuck you, george bush, i'll spit on your grave.
fuck you, george bush, you belong in a cave.
fuck you, george bush,
fuck you, george bush,
fuck you, george bush,
fuck you.

.... another timeless neo-con....


one day a posse of rabid gray men came,
from an armor-plated think tank,
where they had been tweakin'....
they spat, "it's time to bulldoze the world."
"chicken hawks gather 'round our fire,"
"charred freedom we'll be huffin"....
and armored evangelists spoke in code,
of new markets and atrocities,
ours for the takin'....

excellente, amigos!

Spew righteousness
like a 900 foot depleted-uranium jesus.
pray over rubble photos of talkin' points,
since the polls, they keep a slippin',
and the people keep askin' questions,
like the old 'columbo' reruns, when
peter falk kept comin' back and sayin',
'ma'am, just one more question',
and the murderors were squirmin',
makin' furtive calls, sayin' that detective
was here again, askin' questions,
and it ain't right, coz I'm due
for my beacon of morality
press conference....

play the whole board crazy mike would tell me

Ted K would tell me that we are a Ship Fools. Straight ahead into the iceberg because the crew has axes to grind

so many concerns, save the trees, save gay mariages, save women from reproductive slavery.

And the war goes on. Osama wins. Well the middle ages weren't so bad. How can we have so much power and be in the dark?

for my beacon of morality
press conference....

"we are all bozos on this bus

it is a little chromium switch"

A lot of fucking going on firsty. Why ain't we happy?

from one-billion to six-point five
in 170 years.
too many damn beautiful humans,
people power,
babies makin' babies,
gangster gods on rabies,
holy books 'n holy crooks,
foaming at the mouth,
all headed south

Plenty of room
Plenty of food
Plenty of water
Fresh air and sunshine
It is a paradise
Or it could be

Just kill off all the men
Except for me
I am a hell of nice guy.

Let the women start over with the next generation of children. What the hell do they need us for, parthenogenesis and all you need is the eggs. Every where I look there is some man with a rag on his head, or a little beanie, or a cowboy hat raising shit, killing people, raping and pillaging. It is a disease called man. A swarm of locusts ravaging the planet, destroying their children’s world. Dam me I hate it when I feel this way. Probably fatigue.

It has been a long day, 16 hours and counting. But I made 2 dollars and forty cents today. So it was worth it.

I ain't making much sense am i, less than usual, and usual aint much sense for me either.

I'm a hell of a nice guy, too. And .... as such, I stand little chance. Sometimes those studies bore me thoroughly. Sometimes I think they rhyme, for example. And see ya, but not exactly tomorrow.