What have they done to the earth?What have they done to our fair sister?Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit herStuck her with knives in the side of the dawnAnd tied her with fences and dragged her down
Whoever controls the media, controls the mind
Are you a lucky little lady in the City of Light? Or just another lost angel.. City of Night?
Do you know we are being led toSlaughters by placid admirals
In the holy solipsism of the youngNow I can't walk thru a citystreet w/out eying eachsingle pedestrian. I feelthier vibe thru myskin, the hair on my neck--- it rises.
Each generation wants new symbols, new people, new names. They want to divorce themselves from their predecessors.
I like people who shake other people up and make them feel uncomfortable.
I think in art, but especially in films, people are trying to confirm their own existences.
I like any reaction I can get with my music. Just anything to get people to think. I mean if you can get a whole room full of drunk, stoned people to actually wake up and think, you're doing something.
If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.
People are strange when you're a stranger Faces look ugly when you're alone Women seem wicked when you're unwanted Streets are uneven when you're down.
I can't believe this is happening I can't believe all these people are sniffing each other
Some of the worst mistakes of my life have been haircuts.
This is the strangest life I've ever known.
Camel caravans bear witness guns to Caesar. Hordes crawl and seep inside the walls. The streets flow stone. Life goes on absorbing war. Violence kills the temple of no sex.