11​.​9​.​11

by Graham Jong-Il

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about

Written on the eleventh of September, two thousand and eleven.

lyrics

Am I naive to think love comes to everyone?
Adam and Eve still fucked after all's said and done.
Now they both stand at the feet of the tower
where war and sex are only games about power.

My seedy underside's only the face of it,
Born inside out and I'm laughing, embracing it.
If life is suffering, happiness is death. They
cling to each other and exhale their final breath.

I am not worthy
of my own loathing.
I can't drown my sorrow
in girls without clothing.

I would pray the lord
my soul to keep,
but love is expensive
and promises cheap.

Such callous reminders
of my mortality
Only highlight the curse
of my duality.

Half in denial,
Half nihilistic.
My shirt is ironically
stained with red lipstick.

Am I naive to think love comes to everyone?
Adam and Eve still fucked after all's said and done.
Now they both stand at the feet of the tower
where war and sex are only games about power.

The hours I've strangled, and the days that have died,
For a bundle of flesh, and affectionless eyes.
If life is suffering, happiness is death. They
cling to each other and exhale their final breath.

credits

released September 16, 2011

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about

Graham Jong-Il Dublin, Ireland

Ukulele eroticist.

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