Author: shaun tenzenmen

Australasian DIY music specialist and practising poet, amongst other things

Kill Your Kids – 6th July 1987

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

Hate your family, middle aged man
Wanna get out, yeah, family man
Can’t take the pressure, about to explode
Take your gun and start to load

Kill your kids, daughter and son
You wanted to live fast and die young
Now it’s too late, so take revenge
Can’t stand to hear them again

Take a pick axe to their heads
Tie them up in their beds
Cut their limbs off one by one
Now you’re starting to have some fun

Down the pub, have a few beers
In your pocket, your daughter’s ears
Leave your wife to clear the mess
But you know she’s the next

Kill your kids and your wife
You just want the happy life
Free from screams and bad dreams
Not falling apart at the seams

“Man convicted for killing his family
Judge has sympathy
Four kids of his own
Driving him crazy
Two years with good behaviour”

Next day
Thousands of dead children

Wheel In Motion – 27th June 1987

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This fire’s burning – crazy inside me
Flames licking my very souls
Since I started running from it
Just can’t seem to keep control

Forever, ever spinning round and round
Can’t get my feet to touch the ground
Just waiting for a positive notion
To stop this wheel in motion

This cruel and heartless life I lead
Is shaking me in my boots
No possession and always temptation
Dividing my from my roots

A fall from grace, a raging wind
Blowing my curtains wide open
Look through the window of my mind
Take a ride, why don’t you come inside?

Wheel spinning forever and on again
Endless path of endless lies and no open gates
Can’t stand still for the reaper’s fear
I know for me that heaven waits

Funky Things – 6th June 1987

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I sit at home and watch TV
I try and count to three
I read a book yesterday
I fell asleep halfway

Try and think of things to do
Try and think of things to be
The doctor says to eat an apple
And I just watch TV

I like to count telephone rings
Sometimes I don’t like anything
I eat lots of strawberry ice cream
Something is not what it seems (but I forget)

I count the lampposts in my street
Ten funky things on my feet
I watch sand drying on the beach
I ate something which just didn’t agree

Dream Torture – 8th May 1987

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I walk in shadows and I talk in silence
I dictate my abuse and my violence
I cry loud and you cry louder
I’ll make you itch without a powder

Don’t talk to me about her
She is my love, she is my sun
She is mine, she is the one
She is my love, she is my hope
She’ll take my violence when I can’t cope
Don’t talk to me about her

I stir the dust and create the wind
I use emotions from deep within
Cracks in the sidewalk, my hiding place
I’ll make you itch when we’re face to face

Don’t talk to me about her
She is my love, she is my dream
She is mine, she is the cream
She is my love, she hides my sin
She’ll blinds my violence from deep within
Don’t talk to me about her

I have these visions of broken dreams
I have to hear my victim’s screams
I don’t see what my violence caused
So long as I know my problem’s solved