A song for one mass. Perhaps not the masses.

I was cleaning out my trunk and found an old journal.  I remember writing the following lyrics after becoming so angry I contemplated physical assault:

You've made something out of nothing
Dusty ashes now your skin
With a touch but not like Midas
You've changed gold to dirt again.

You're a master of destruction
You break everything you see
Like a virus, you spread quickly
And you've poisoned parts of me.

So stay down deep
And drown in mud
That is cleaner than your lies.
You're so easy
And transparent
I can see through your disguise.
Nothing special
You're no different
Fucking sheep - you follow blind.
Just a sad joke
With no punchline
I'll erase you from my mind.



Anger is good creative fodder.