We encouraging existence, we encourage the voice, we encourage the ink, we encourage the paper, we encourage sleep, we encourage use of drugs, we encourage the use of force, we encourage a lot of things we need, we encourage a lot of things we use to need
we are unnecessary on this planet, we encourage this
Abglanz

Resist.Organize.Nourish.Create.Exist

A list inspired by blackberry farmers of Brittany:
1. More musicans should kill their critics, maybe then government and statism would fall.
2. People that want to write should take to writing everywhere. Don't just tell people you are looking for a way into journalism or someother bullshit, take to writing ascross walls. Let every brick in the country be your book or whatever shit you want to produce. Don't let anyone tell you its anti-social, ignore them live free, write free. Everyone needs to take up paint and free their imagination on the face of the puppet masters holding back our minds and spontaneity containters.
3. Take one of every pill in your house the doctor has ever given you, but before doing so right a note pointing out the poision they feed us to heal us kills. If you survive the experiment, you may continue with the medication. If you fail, you have gone out in good grace.
4. Smash all the mugs in the house.
Abglanz

"From Despair To Where?.."

В кокаиновой дымке туманный рассвет
Ты в поисках мира, которого нет
Уходящему детству - пламенный привет
Пустота вокруг, ты сходишь на нет

Ты не хочешь жить, как твой отец и дед
Твой кумир - в конвульсиях бьющийся поэт
Ты в слезах проклинаешь весь этот бред
Ты кричишь, но слышишь тишину в ответ

Abglanz: Stop making something, Start making sense

Goddess bunny move
jive bunny
what lives in that hollow body

"Back to the loom you dirty fuckers, I see you there. Hiding under the rug like the fucking rats you are. BACK TO THE MOTHERFUCKING LOOM," screamed Mr Weasle.
Under all the swearing and shouting we knew he had our, the dog eared Rat Men of Beta Centauri, interests at heart. After all Mr Weasle was the boss dog, and everyone knows boss man love da loom........

We walk.

We marched through the streets
With nothing but our shame
We prayed to a God
But we didn't even know his name

It's time to disappear
Into the morning rain
It's time to start looking
For our inner selves again

Across bleeding battlefields, scattered with broken minds, we march in unison in perpetual solitude. Hands not touching, mouths closed, not a single word drops. Only the occasional tear rolls out of a hollow mascara-black pit and bleeds down a freshly scarred cheek. We hear the sound of fanfares but they aren't playing for us. We walk as further away from the soul tearing screech of trumpets as possible. No direction, no purpose, no strength, not anymore. We just walk.

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gun the gunner
time has come......
to gun the gunner
gun the gunner
goodbye you brave soul
you soil of england
gun the gunner
all praise the king
he rises from the west settling absent mindedly in the east
12 bullets for heaven
nine for the earth

Oh darling
we be the teenage hustler
wet dream scenario
rip off artist turned bad
honey we love you so much

Void.

The time has come, the bell has chimed
The prophecy has self-fulfilled.
Сolour in my empty heart with the darkest coloured brush.
Your silhouette blended with the night.

Nose to the ground
Thumb to the wind
I am but sound
Step alligator
Colours gone
Abglanz and Out

All ethics, politics and philosophies are pure assumptions, built upon assumptions. They rest on no sure basis. They are but shadowy castles in the air erected by day-dreamers, or by rogues, upon nursery fables. It is time they were firmly planted upon an enduring foundation. This can never be accomplished until the mind has been thoroughly cleansed and drastically disinfected of its depraved, alien and demoralizing concepts of right and wrong. In no human brain can sufficient space be found for the relentless logic of hard fact, until all pre-existent delusions have been finally annihilated. Half-measures are of no avail. We must go down to the very root and tear them out, even to the last fibre. We must be, like nature, hard, cruel, relentless.

Strip back your flesh, no longer the idolatry of skin, let no membrane hold back the pure power of the soul
Abglanz and Out

Maroon.

Flickering through existence
I feed on auras.
Papercut my way into a foggy dream
I never scream, I never scream.

Life is just a slow death
Home's where the mind's at peace.
Through hazy conscience you pierce
A nasal tone so shrill.

Tick tock, tick tock. Tick. Tick.

United Kingdom of Whores

I welcome you to this magic kingdom
Drowned in endorphins and stale perfume
To hide the stench of sweat but not shame
You're free to leave but you won't be the same

So grab a drink, have one of my fags
So many girls in glamourous rags
Fight 'til the sunlight on sticky floors
Tomorrow morning they'll regret, of course

Forget your morals, you won't need them now
It makes more sense to follow the crowd
That seems so happy and carefree
Intoxicated is the way to be

There's nothing here, just hate and lust
Values I live for get ground to dust
Purity killed by one night romance
Loyalty doesn't have any chance

If you're looking to lose yourself
Leave your soul and brain on the shelf
And find yourself washed up on the shores
Of the United Kingdom of Whores

ABGLANZ as an end to bogus pseudo intellectual. My mouth, therefore an error. Plush safe.. he think.