Hey There. You Bad Seeds. Let's Get It On!

I was born upside down.

My dog had puppies. One was born inside out.

We're all born with sins. Better start cleansin'.

I'm disturbed by the world and its grim surprises.

Reality is a bitch sometimes.

Life is beautiful, - as long as you see it that way.

I choose to see many ways.

That's why I'm bitterly cynical.

Finally! I'm clinically perfect.

I've checked out and I'm on my way.

I'm not finished though.

I still have a long way to go

until my head is right.

What about you?

How's your head doing?

I love the heat in your movements.

But, coldness throttles your every word.

You love cold, lifeless things.

You hate those close to you.

Their touch burns your skin.

You hate them for what they don't give you.

Is there no other reason for it?

It's so hard to love someone for what they do give you.

On their death beds you will remember it all.

Only then will you see, that you hated them for being everything you could have ever wanted.

People tell me to be things, but I don't feel like listening.

But, you... you listen to the movies, the music and your real self fades.

You are hiding.

I try not to listen, because this chameleon needs sleep.

So do you.

Take a break, write a song, sing it to yourself.

Find God.

Then find out that there's more to life.

Find your own answers, ones that you can't find in any book.

Discover the world outside your room. Find a balance.

Discover that outside of your bad seed sprouting head there is an occasionally beautiful world out there.

Change again my brother and you'll lose your

grip.

I could stare at ink blots, but I only see ink.

Tell me what you see and I will change my story.

Because there is more to you.

You're not just a depressed teenaged boy.

You're scared of being alone, so scared you'd rather die than think about it again.

As long as you stare at everyone else, you'll only end up failing the Rorschach test.

"The voices say hello." - Matthew Good A Boy and His Machine Gun