In a couple of weeks,
We'll stop beating this horse;
The only joke here
Is modern discourse. 

In a couple of weeks,
We'll stop beating this horse;
The only joke here
Is modern discourse. 

The exhibits were dull,
The supervision lax,
And on the gyroscope,
I lost my freeze-dried snacks.

The exhibits were dull,
The supervision lax,
And on the gyroscope,
I lost my freeze-dried snacks.

It's pretty close
To an outright lock,
But it's missing some
je ne sais quoi .

It's pretty close
To an outright lock,
But it's missing some
je ne sais quoi .

My twenty-fourth birthday,
Was in a first-floor motel room
Along 264 west,
Playing a borrowed guitar, and
Reading Infinite Jest.
I'm a better person at twenty-six
(Still not the best),
But I'm in the nostalgia hole now,
So thanks, I guess.

What I loved so well
About Fault in Our Start,
Was the same theme
That carried Moonrise Kingdom—
That ambivalence,
The notion of bulwarks
Against the spongy tide
Of adulthood,
Or death,
Or some nebulous
Cryptocultural lethe,
And the noble
But failing
Lights we string
Along our walks.

What I loved so well
About Fault in Our Start,
Was the same theme
That carried Moonrise Kingdom—
That ambivalence,
The notion of bulwarks
Against the spongy tide
Of adulthood,
Or death,
Or some nebulous
Cryptocultural lethe,
And the noble
But failing
Lights we string
Along our walks.

I'm not arguing;
I think you're right,
But isn't that half the
People on this site?

I'm not arguing;
I think you're right,
But isn't that half the
People on this site?

In ages past,
The noble vanished—
Blind prophets,
And blessed poets,
Spoke truth to power,
And balm to the repressed,
Weaving in details
From their audiences' bailiwick.

In ages past,
The noble vanished—
Blind prophets,
And blessed poets,
Spoke truth to power,
And balm to the repressed,
Weaving in details
From their audiences' bailiwick.

Weltschmertz is
An indie kid precept;
He's not talking about the album,
But the concept.

Weltschmertz is
An indie kid precept;
He's not talking about the album,
But the concept.

Like sodden flags
The daisies wave
Along the lip
Of culture's grave.

Like sodden flags
The daisies wave
Along the lip
Of culture's grave.

It's not just cash
Kept behind locks,
I keep documents
In my safe deposit box.
I'm not the overlord of meth,
But "To be read
In the event of my untimely death?"
His vengeance
Went up with him in flames,
But Gus's ghost
Is naming names.

It's not just cash
Kept behind locks,
I keep documents
In my safe deposit box.
I'm not the overlord of meth,
But "To be read
In the event of my untimely death?"
His vengeance
Went up with him in flames,
But Gus's ghost
Is naming names.

It's almost five,
I'd love a drink—
But I'd rather be watching
Barton Venk.