I think the world broke
I think the world broke. It might be my fault. But I’m gonna blame you. Why? Because you’re there and it was easy. Huh? That was past tense you say? O, so it was. I guess I already framed you. Sorry I couldn’t inform you in advance. But then you could have done something about it. Now it’s too late. And you can’t fix it. Because the world is broken. You might have had a chance to prove yourself innocent if the world worked. But it doesn’t. Though I’m not so sure it ever did work right.
I see you’ve been shot in the chest. Sucks to be you. Well I’m off.
4 hours is a long time to wait in a bus station. This is my punishment for sleeping. Serves me right. Who in their right mind would try to sleep? Everyone! O... that’s not what I meant. Even though it’s true! No! I didn’t mean that either. What is wrong with me? Why do I keep telling the truth? I must be defective. I need to rectify this situation. How can I enlighten the people if I can’t lie?
Through song and dance! Or not!
I choose or not. I don’t dance, or sing, much less both and the same time. I would need to hire people to sing and dance for me, but I just don’t have the funds. Even if I did have the funds I wouldn’t do it anyway. I would hire people, but not to sing and dance. I would hire them as my personal army of justice. Tacking justice onto the end there will keep people from looking into what my army would actually do. Such as rape everything in a 10 mile radius. Not just people either. Not just living creatures either. Not just dead creatures either. Inanimate objects. Such as duffle bags. The atrocities my army of justice would commit if they existed make my soul cry. ‘Cause it would be raped if the army of justice existed. Well.. Then my soul would also have to exit. Which it doesn’t. Kind of puts a hamper on my statement trying to express remorse at something I never actually created.
Ah, remorse... Such a... um... remorseful feeling. Yea, that works. Or does it? No not really. That sentence makes me so angrily angry. In response I shall creately create a newly new sentencely sentence that shall be sensibly sensible: I don’t like pie.
I see you’ve been shot in the chest. Sucks to be you. Well I’m off.
4 hours is a long time to wait in a bus station. This is my punishment for sleeping. Serves me right. Who in their right mind would try to sleep? Everyone! O... that’s not what I meant. Even though it’s true! No! I didn’t mean that either. What is wrong with me? Why do I keep telling the truth? I must be defective. I need to rectify this situation. How can I enlighten the people if I can’t lie?
Through song and dance! Or not!
I choose or not. I don’t dance, or sing, much less both and the same time. I would need to hire people to sing and dance for me, but I just don’t have the funds. Even if I did have the funds I wouldn’t do it anyway. I would hire people, but not to sing and dance. I would hire them as my personal army of justice. Tacking justice onto the end there will keep people from looking into what my army would actually do. Such as rape everything in a 10 mile radius. Not just people either. Not just living creatures either. Not just dead creatures either. Inanimate objects. Such as duffle bags. The atrocities my army of justice would commit if they existed make my soul cry. ‘Cause it would be raped if the army of justice existed. Well.. Then my soul would also have to exit. Which it doesn’t. Kind of puts a hamper on my statement trying to express remorse at something I never actually created.
Ah, remorse... Such a... um... remorseful feeling. Yea, that works. Or does it? No not really. That sentence makes me so angrily angry. In response I shall creately create a newly new sentencely sentence that shall be sensibly sensible: I don’t like pie.
posted by Hank at 6:41 PM
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