i with my face was made of clay
so i could rip chunks out of my too big nose
and gorge my sunken eyes till they are wide and beguiling
i wish my face was made of clay so i could cut deeper dimples in my cheeks
and rip my teeth and lips from my jaw to rearrange them in some sort of smile
and i would tear my hair from my scalp and paint it back straight and long
...

we are a grey city
(a small city...a city with no cathedral...a town in disguise)

we hug the curving coast
(a limitless coast... a grey coast... a coast that gave us our name)

we own the sea
(or perhaps... the sea owns us)

we are a blitzed city
flattened in 17'
(beneath these grey tower blocks are the foundations of old... these streets are graveyards)

we were a port city
(the sea gave us life... pulled us from the shadows......

if i have seen far it is because i have stood on the shoulders of giants
yet
man is born free and everywhere he is in chains
it its like 
the idiots guide to Marxism
man is wolf to man
and a women needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle
in a world where
i will trust the government with their guns when they trust us with ours
and
taxation is a form of theft

all quotes stolen...

I long for something terrible to happen 
a fire maybe 
or a flood
so I could save someone
something 
have a cause
the apocalypse would work too 
or an invasion 
I could stride the country in worn black boots and a tattered coat
saving lives 
freeing the oppressed 
fighting for 
something
anything
i long for some reason to hurt
some righteous reason
a heroes reason 
I long for some reason to feel this way
instead of this ache 
for which...