| unimportant, and I’m about to mimic some image of a rock and roll
 | 
| singer I have under lock and key. | 
| Without the faintest hint of irony that
 | 
| I’m flashing my pearly whites to sustain my mediocrity. | 
| So is everyone
 | 
| having a good time tonight? | 
| Good, I’m glad (I couldn’t actually care
 | 
| less). | 
| You guys are the best crowd that we’ve ever seen, seen with
 | 
| these old dead eyes. | 
| Blind to the stage or even my own lies. | 
| So hey
 | 
| ho, let’s go. | 
| Let’s start this contemptible «rock» show. | 
| Blinding lights
 | 
| to hide the hand up our ass in this puppet-sock show. | 
| Two sewn on
 | 
| eyes, repurposed and made new, torn from an aging suit for a sense
 | 
| of déjà vu. | 
| Thumb underbite. | 
| I bite my fucking thumb, and hope you
 | 
| catch a thread, and slowly come undone. | 
| An illusion seldom spoken. | 
| An
 | 
| understanding between you and I that the ground that you stand on
 | 
| is somehow less than mine. | 
| An allusion to a broken home, left on the
 | 
| street and chilled to the bone. | 
| So hey, we still feeling good? | 
| Now you
 | 
| comprehend our complex relationship — consumer/consumed. | 
| You’re
 | 
| just some stupid kid and I’m a megalomaniac. | 
| Here comes that tortured
 | 
| artist now to sing of his despair. | 
| Shedding defenses for an honest
 | 
| creation. | 
| Placing yourself in the stocks on the strap. | 
| You’re disgracing
 | 
| your effort by conforming to textbook performance of music to fill in
 | 
| the gaps, and it’s bullshit. | 
| It’s bullshit. | 
| Be honest, this can’t be what you
 | 
| wanted, if what you write about means anything to you. | 
| Rather than
 | 
| pure vanity, people might connect with sincerity. | 
| Don’t just pray the next
 | 
| generation learns from our mistakes. | 
| Let’s not repackage the same old
 | 
| performance. | 
| Original content is so much more rewarding. | 
| I know that
 | 
| it might be quite cliché, but if all the world is in fact a stage, then this
 | 
| stage—this here goddamn stage—might just be all the world. |