TROUBLEMAKER enters through the foyer.
Troublemaker— I never though I'd see you again.
— you won't.
Yo what do I owe the displeasure?
Fascinatingly inept.
Ahem, excuse me— to what do I owe the nauseating discomfort?
Better, but still no dice.
What are you going here, exiler?
“Exiler” well now, here we are making up words after a rusty start.
What do you want?
Where are they?
Who do you mean?
Birdsong and Hawkeye?
I'm supposed to know?
You do know.
Do I now?
Now— tomorrow— always and forever.
Don't play mind games.
But oh, a game it was to have given you the mark of the call in the first place.
The what?
I made my time with you and you alone; and you as well as I remember this; I know what you know, and I am where you are at all and any given times.
So then, you can find them all on your own.
Clever but not! Without seeing both eyes, I have none at all.
What are you seeking?
The hidden truths.
Well then; you're going to have to kill me.
Then I will.
MONARCH THE SUFFERER enters through the galley in extreme panic.
STOP, STOP! WAIT AT IT.
MEANWHILE
Okay, Conan, what gives?
Nothing!
Should this mean something at all?
This is innapropriate,
So you are—completely lucid.
Of course I am; I'm an astral traveler, aren't I?
I don't know what you are?
For now, as it appears, just a thought.
Well, if I give you my eyes, will you sprout arms or something?
The mystic waits and ponders; this seems to be an enlightening thought; filled with amusement, she replies.
Why, yes, Conan. Give me your eyes.
Are you serious?
What a remarkable thought. Actually!
Wait a moment.
Please be in jeans and a t shirt not a sweater or a jacket or a suit
When I please you want you to be my teacher
In this essence, you are light and I'm the truth
Feed me
See me for my demons
As I need your for your weakness
Only on the weekdays, and never on the weekends
We hiatus summers—
Smart, huh
DJs on the long nights,
Your festival seasons
Turtlenecks at Christmas,
No hannukah for Christians,
I'm waving at the Krishnas in the station
And I'm brace to even right this;
As I brace myself for impact,
Saving Grace is in its place
I guess the last days have to happen
As the last act take its placement
—Ace of Spades.
Somebody kill me
I need to get pass go
Collect $200 dollars
And never ever roll again
To roll the dice
To troll the doll
—someone's lost in the mall, alright,
I bet.
I thought it was a poker game
I even hoped,
But no,
Just lunch and cake.
Amen.
A dog in the host suit
On octopus arms
How alarming.
How are you?
I'm no good,
No good,
No good, America
No good,
No goon,
But too false for truth, America
No words,
No news—
Who ties the noose, America?
No time for booze, America
Just cut me loose, America.
Patrick! Patrick! What about the offer?
There was no offer! I lied, to you!
But why would you do that?
To get the most out of you.
Well— you certainly did do that.
You certainly did do well.
Certified freak;
Shh,
I can't leak the secrets.
I could be speaking in codes,
Or keep cleaning my creases with bleach
If you mean what you mean,
Death.
I sure do think,
You are in for
The ride of your life
The ride of your life
I sure do wish,
That I just didn't have eyes m
Just didn't have eyes
Just didn't have—
Here's a thought:
who'd you wash in the laundry?
Were you hoping that I'd wander?
Mayday — lost focus
That is just not your business!
Keep it simple
Keep it tie dye
Keep it strange
And keep it rowdy
Keep it pushing
Keep it pouty
Keep it off the walk
And show now panty lines
No petty theft
No truth remarks
No sighs
No heavy dining
Bleeding
Eating
Breathing
Thinking
Where were for you when I marked you though and then?
This is no Romeo and Juliet!
Did you forget your lunch?
Oh you forgot,
You know
I'm just old fashioned.
That was passionate
For a paraground in parameters of iambic
Drenched in suffocating silent
Lock box
I have the option
I have the option
I have the option
But I'd rather not!
Ha ha
Charade you are
Ha ha hav
Show me what you got
Ha ha. Ha ha
A hallmark card marked
Penny in a fountain.
That's the address,
Well, send it back then!
Which fountain?
Which penny?
Which wish,
Which which
And which Christmas.
I don't get it
I took a half wit plastered bastard and had him hammered into a masterpiece;
Now I'm the madman.
Now what's the matter?
Now what's the difference in a fan and a friend
Or a cat in a hat or
Peanut butter jelly and a baseball bat
Is it just as indifferently anyway just another day
In fact,
It's opposite independence
Interestingly in this circumstance
I am imprisoned
Listening to indefinitely
And whether or not I'd never admit it
This
Is
In me.
Never friend,
However,
In the final act,
Holding hands as the curtains lift,
And the audience stance,
The simple tremble of a pulse
Which resembles the flicker of definite grip
Rather publicly,
In fact,
Center percentium
How's that for a show of affection?
The drop of a hat,
Or as light as a feather
Who goes there
Or yonder.
“I ponder on that,”
“Very often”
Said Cheshire Cat.
Don't forget how long it's been since Alice had originally fallen,
And that all along we've all been in and under, up and down in
Wonderland.
(and also, it's the phantom of the opera)
Come crashing down now the silvered chandelier of crystal and of course the precious iridescent diamonds.
How remarkable the art but perched and parched above it he shadow lives in sawdust
And showtunes
And auras
And hauntings
And mayday
And mating calls
And over all
The body calls to rotting soul
To find a plug to pull
A bull to taunt
Another fan that wants you.
What the fuck would love fall upon of not the shoulders of the golden one.
You're doomed.
I don't know what that means.
{Enter The Multiverse}
[The Festival Project™ ]
{Enter The Multiverse}
L E G E N D S:
ICONS
Tales of A Superstar DJ
The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū
Ascension
Deathwish
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