The bored of directors
advise from an undermined body to an embodied mind
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
have subsidised a new batch of smart technology high fidelity detectors
to search and amuse mankind, the lonesome, a parenting, combined, childlike & other captors
their artificial blooming artificial industries for our false necessities
these worldwide fabricating travelling activities all of them captivating families
glory glory chloride solution, yay, keep the shitty cramped bowling lane clean
and best bred newborn babies already bouncing in the pinball machine
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
so desperately eager, longing, yearning for even the tiniest percentage of the tiniest gains
the time long gone since real oxygen filled blood streamed in those shallow veins
stray dogs howling on the internet longing for a bone or two
spinning cats spill their litter for a virtual spot in a tube beside you
aaah, we need shallower canals longer lasting, less contemplation, more contest
a game for ownership of ownerharbour, survival of the contempest
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
eat eachother, after all of us went down on their luck
pay to go get laid (off) while your feathers, bodyhairs, words and intestines are plucked
an infinite world, full of posing pixels, packages wrapped in nucleair bubbles
a rubadub neck brace tool for the re-release of all your troubles
kinky chains, canned cans, muscle enhancer, tied up agendas and bad suit cases
all the while all sorts of screens cover their greasy, sweaty, sugary sweet smiling faces
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
shocktreating you with their 24-7 'hiding a big ugly lily white' lie-detectors
while we think we are watching the real deal its only the battle of con contestors
and keep on dancing the can can not and the twist around my finger
begging for a payback for the possesed finger click damaged broken luckclinger
while transported, hammered in the grey insides of the shiny, plain white plane
no mather the restitution solution they still deal in products to prolong and promote isolation of pain
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
eat eachothers blood dripping noses, while prancing in bikini tops and tutu's over leather hoses
dancing square, double scotch hopping, hula hooping, kill timing and crissing crosses
forever advertising any poseable existence, yes you can, get up at midnight for a suck,
blood, guts, life, oxygen, air, sleep for the high created by that one of a kind drug
the joy of cheques, ease of speed, stealing life live, yet never there be a crook in sight
the pretty noise of your life going gone just under the limit of the speed of light
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
their time machines, slot machines, drills, medication and means for masturbation
for the shortest of moments we were born on earth yet forever after dwelling in a nation
stuck in prefab borders, closed signal sign off language, suffer symbolic symptoms
thanks to the industry our dreary daily work and play life is forever held in customs
claim claims, time time, rule rules, right wrongs, kid kids, mother mothers, above and under child care
i think i'm going on a magic trip to the fairy land of the do dwell and be lively at the funny fair
bored thanks to the directors bored
trademarket Theboredofdirectors tm
the bored of directors
missed mistrial mistreating minstrels singing love songs for the bored directors daughter
while his son slouches in an electric chair suffering a bad case of virtual man slaughter
a proud nations poisoned dirt flows in to the dying ocean, killing the last fish of endless opportunity
while medias blabbing about a pop song that might be promoting losing ones anal virginity
glory to gob, hall lay lewd jah, the sun pays from the eastern west to western east, golden trash glows everywhere
protected by battle machines, red buttons, black mirrors, border patrol petrol, full on rage racing magazines and mental healthcare
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
spilling their overrated guts on dead end streets coughing up the remains of blood gone bad
signing the joy of life while dealing in the name of the presumed dead, should have been dead,
forgotten, if not for them, those forever rehearsing carriages, wagons full of band aid, on the insanity label, commited to work for the son of reverend P.A.I.N.S. in Future-Passed
another fucked up scene for the working, too sick to die, bored shitless school of every administraigted damned class
and their middle aged baby philosophers remains, remnants of rightfully drowned, our former seesaw sailing worshippers
used the same floating transportation units, sale the sees with slaves and other scapegoats for the sake of current seas happy waving cheers
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
Create another road to prison, on glittering, glitching, yellow bricks for worthy true believers, all lack, that highly overrated, sense of reality
a price on all of our heads, a label on our shoulders, a crossword on our backs, a by no means, must go on and build that never ending story
fill'um up with serial progression to nothing good is ever coming to you thataway
each morning losing its golden hour every 'store it up your big magnetic blasting power' clouded day
here is the hate to say, i hate to say i told you youtube video log on show, selling cheap time in plastic bottled up synergy
in the blink of an eye, in a middle of the road sigh draining all your outdated not upgradeable energy
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
come to you ever so early, even before you start crying, before the first shut eye
to tell you when to be, what to do, who you are, where to go, how you do but never why
why they are there, in your mothers arms, fathers eyes, from your first to last gasp,
the bored settle in nurses wardrobe utensils, make papers work, doors handled, while file and fill the doctors drug cabinet,
the road a head, always hiding there, in a space without place, waiting for you to go get born, a life and well
as soon as you are there they are there too to tell you that you need to know that there is something, many somethings, you need to be told, about hell
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
can only survive in the language they themselves have created for that profitable long term goal
they need you to indulge the words, signs and lines to accept them as true leaders of this deep, dark, black whole
the world they have pictured for you, roads drawn, targets pointed, the stuff stuffing for you to go on and get stuffed
its the back story of every life the one about both hands are just there waiting, longing, hoping to be cuffed
one hand tied on a history that isn't yours and the other on anothers future bright
you are just a part of the plug for big and importants mechanical, electrical, virtualy crafted holy light
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
think of new improved types of torture for the ongoing, no not in any way ending inquistion
the business of the mad manmade branded world of incorporating everything
suffering in subsidised isolation, going crazy by choice, rooftop sniper marketing causing brain havoc
timely tension magazines, pixelated challenges, candy colored slavery, the lottery winners empty lot
empty spaces must be filled, fantasized animated enemies killed, and all of it will be billed, and certainly paid
not by the builders but by those that are forced to live in that blackest of all wholes the builders made.
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
handing out prices, medals of honor, crosses to bear, labels to wear and tasks to full fill
pretending there's a route, a better place to go, that you can be free if you really really honestly truely want to go up that hill
that there is a top for you to climb, you can be a market cheer leader just as good as them, if they let you of for neat behaviour
they say they will, but its a game for fools, and they can not be anything else, thats why they are the bored
word games, all is sentenced within, delivered not brought, divorce executed, as expressed, for shops shoppers stored diplomatic test,
smart stressed,
sign on as guest,
wish you the best,
get back to bed don't disturb the directors rest
the words that got you going replaced by other words to make you tumble and break our spine, neck and legs
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
never retire from the bored game, its what keeps them on the bored
they are players, building fields, rule the games and rulers, cross the lines, shape the goals, span the cord
sky city lining drawn with paper, word up, acre after acre signed, paper trails believe, a system of sound, eardrum pattern, shelved live, itshellvation, o itshellish noise,
after the great ride forward debate, the gathering among equals, a meeting up, have a late party drink with all of the voys
In a word world the word makes the world only if the word stays in place, keeps being heard even if it hurts the better but silent earth
a creature that comes to you without a word but not without a sound, but thats not our business, the fabricated bored are there to maintain the fantastic worth of word
The bored of directors
the bored of directors
battery powered, solar powered, by wind or by dung flushing their shit over your head
shipping sickness and death in crates filled with cases of contaminated lead
exploding, like a hype, on the community's sense of community, drown in sound walls, blinding eyes and steal your lost breath
machines tell machines that the last sane person found on earth has at last gone mad, the first good one is honestly bad and the cheery one is deeply sad
deny the bored directors only remaining hope, reason for still breathing, his getting up for, the reason why he tells us to buy yourself free
undo the power, take out his only plug, the 100% fake roots, remove value, wordly worth from money and you will be as you were born to be, free
a life without destiny