Don't answer someone's question
When you suspect that he won't like your answer
It only causes discord
Therefore it's better to change the subject
Or to pretend you didn't hear the question
Eventually he will forget that he had asked you anything
Beware of a man who asks for your opinion
He might know in his heart that he's not truly worthy of flattery
He might be testing you
And knows that you're telling lies
Singing him praises will lead you into a trap
Everybody knows that a corpse is not a beautiful sight
So why fabricate words
It's better to keep quiet than to say something you don't mean
Thus choosing your words carefully shall lead to abundance
The less words you use
The more you're actually saying
And by saying nothing
You're actually saying everything
Never take for granted that everyone is as honest as you are
There's always a vulture in the surrounding
Waiting for you to stumble
And when you do
He will make it his mission to ensure that everybody gets to know about it
A fool will reveal his innermost secrets while intoxicated
Then hang his head in shame the following day
Every man was born with intuition
But in a modern world full of noise pollution
That inner voice could easily be drowned out
Too many distractions
Too many choices
And if you're not strong in who you are
You will most likely always end up making the wrong choice
Therefore seek for inner silence
Like a man diligently digging for gold
He never gives up until he strikes it lucky
Give your inner voice time to speak
And you shall find the answers you've been looking for

“But maybe your real job is shopping…”

Sleepwalk through stock footage.  Life as
documentary.  Soundtrack of horror movie score:
ambient electronica, bubblegum nostalgia and
**** love songs.  Everything becomes
visual metaphor: blackbirds, barcodes and
birthday candles; Big Pharma pick & mix;
lipstick ritual; pigeon superstition; fraying flags
of fading empires; migratory patterns of
shopping trolleys; special offers; fantastic prizes.
Worker bees are vanishing - they all want to
be queens - and our hives overflow
with honey, but are empty and dead.  We got
infected with aspiration, with individualism.  
Generically unique career consumers: remember
when you were more than your credit rating,
more than your demographic, more than your
market-driven self-diagnosis?

I'm desperate,
At this point,
Give me a sign.
What do I have to do,
To get what I want?
You care more about yourself than you do for me,
That much has been made apparent.
I am filled with a bitter, intense regret,
I feel like I have made the wrong choice.
I have spent so much time,
Getting entangled in your trap,
And now I fear I cannot escape.
How can one be with someone else,
Yet feel so, so alone?
I have yet to find the answer to this question,
That is incredibly relevant in my life.
All of the love that I have felt for you,
I feel it going rotten.

every story is the same old lie
i could see the ****** with two patched eyes
still they keep me on the hook
i’m woke i’m tired i’m static i’m shook
i cannot hear the greater cry
i cannot grasp the thought of getting by
what's a novel? what’s a book?
what’s an author? what’s a crook?
tell a story, spin a lie
this is a red herring fish fry
this is astounding, a new high
all i had to do was hit a low
when i got there i reached a bit below
and then i stopped there
i saw the bigger picture
big mood it could fill a pitcher
big mood it could **** a preacher
big mood i could write about it
big mood i could hide from it
i should hide from it
i should run away
say sayonara ‘til a brighter day
‘til the moonlight hits a lighter face
i could always be a step away
what's two steps away?
tryna step away?
three steps away?
tryna step away?
what's a meter away? what’s a mile away?
did i drag a mile from an inch?
did i stretch my mind out paper thin?
solve a problem - see the end
final push - bring it in
bring it on - finish strong
final song - live long
long live - three shouts
begin again - bean sprouts

Minds of lasting conviction
Collect that which rots
Like lost pits dug out for traps