Scenery of Society

Julio, every summer you come back and make me relive these tortuous memories. Julio, do you remember the day you almost drowned? I do. Julio, I can't escape your punishment. Julio, I want to know why you cursed me. Julio, I remember our difficult times before July, when we couldn't start over.

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Worker's Romance

Love is priceless. Rich and poor, black and white. A working-class romance, simplicity makes love so divine. The heart wants what it wants. A working-class romance.

Poem number one

Eight ball

Eight-ball, what's your prediction? What do your sources say about my situation? Eight-ball, are you magic? Eight-ball? When did you become a fortune teller? When did you learn the answers? Oh, tell me this eight-ball.

Poem number of

Insane

You don't understand me, I don't give a shit about school. Insane, crazy, crazy. I'm not like the others. I get bullied. I can't talk to you, or him, or anyone. Insane, crazy. Insane. I'm not popular, I'm crazy.

Poem number three

Pressure for cappuccino

In a velvety café, a house of incense filled with thoughts of poetry, the air mingled with cigarette smoke. With each sip of my coffee, I felt no pressure for the cappuccino. All my senses were an absolute delight. Have you ever heard your heartbeat? Once you heard it, there would have been no pressure for the cappuccino. In the café, when you're not around, you're all I think about. No pressure for the cappuccino.

Poem number four

I have to get out of here

I have to get out of here. Nothing happens in this town. If it weren't for you, I'd have nothing to do. I have to get out of here. I have to go. The complaints department closed a long time ago. I don't like feeling like I'm getting good at boredom. I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here.

Poem number five

Okay honey?

What can a girl do? Anything she wants. What can a girl be? We can be anything we want to be. If you want to write a song, do it. Paint a picture, do it. Cure a disease, change the world, do it. Okay, baby. Okay, baby, okay, baby, you can do it, baby. The media has been telling girls all along, as well as society, that their entire worth is based on serving men—screw it, men are of no use to you. The thinking man knows it's true. Okay, baby? You hardly ever see successful women in music. All the other girls are in the audience and they're groupies.

Poem number six

Kool-Aid de cereza

You drink as rich as a liquid lollipop.

Make me drink my cherry soda, my cherry Kool-Aid. Pink cotton candy with cherry Kool-Aid. I always said you were sweet. I know marijuana, but I don't know Molly. Willy bourbon and cherry ice cream are as sexy as cherry Kool-Aid.

Poem number seven

Landscape of society,

Talking to myself, be your own commentator on everything, on the things you see. Enjoying the landscape of society, observing the mighty fall into the mighty winter.

It got harder. The days were longer, and the journey continued, looking for a new change of scenery. Drinking too much, drinking not enough. Everyone needs a change, a scenery. I don't have to say anything in a song that means anything, that's what the scenery has been like all along.

Poem number eight

Mind Trap

Mind Trap: The doctor gives me medication to keep me or us fed, particularly our heads. Mom and Dad say I'm unstable. We all go to the doctor as a family so you can lie about me and I can lie about you, and you medicate me over and over again in your mind. Mind Trap. I won't sit in the group with those who are just as messed up as I am, if not more. Keeping your mind trapped is their business.

Scenery of Society was originally going to be an alternative album. Some of my favorite alternative bands are. One of my favorite alternative bands is The Cranberries. Scenery of Society is dedicated to the memory of the late, great lead singer of The Cranberries.

False

False plastic illusions, a holographic mirage. I don't know what I am. I might as well be fake. I fell asleep, woke up in a coma. Fake fake. What does it mean to be real? I don't know, no one knows, but everyone knows we're fake. I'd rather be a robot. At least I know who and where I am than be fake.

I don't like my job

I don't like my job. I have clients all day long telling me how to do my job. I don't like my job. I'm one step away from spitting in my food. I don't like my job. Ask me how work was, baby, what do you think it's like? I don't like my job. Oh, I love my job. I'd do it for free no way, where have you been? I don't like my job.

And Lawndale

In Lawndale, a sleepy and tired hell, an image of the American dream is shoving itself down our throats. I can't find myself because I left. I'm here now, and I'll walk alone. Goodbye. If I could see James one more time, I'd tell him he's wrong. I'm truly sorry, that's enough. Everything is plastic, I'm gone.

Dedicated to the Prince of Darkness Ozzy Osbourne