epileptic fractions of happiness
epileptic fractions of happiness
epileptic fractions of happiness
epileptic fractions of happiness

epilectic fractions of happiness (why)
for the weakest track on this whole record (what)
didn't quite rhyme (lilting like a banshee)
kind of funny... (so reprimand me)

i heard somewhere we laugh so we don’t cry
if that’s true, then at the center of my universe
i am the funniest man alive

(lackluster lyrics... lackluster lyrics...)

she wasn’t wrong when she said i didn’t write because i wanted to fight it
composing this that is, i wouldn’t call it music
tragic? no, just a lonely egocentric sob story; so world please ignore me
i don’t want to be heard and how I deplore that word
quite the professional noun "i" is indeed: my word
and yours. one capitalistic aspect we all can share
on a massive scale devoid of economic hierarchy
or language barriers
fuck i wanted to take a ferry to long island in january
freeze inside of lady liberty and then fuck you again
and fuck you moronic simpletons, these amblings were not meant
for your fresh new kicks and expensive desensitized bliss
and fuck no this is not poetry, obvious to anyone who matters artistically
spatter my spittle on this lcd screen
on which forever i am misspelling lysergic acid diethylamide acronym foreseen?
probably not, that’s why it’s humorous line.
catch the joke? yep. that’s a fucking humorous line.
i heard somewhere we laugh so we don’t cry
if that’s true, then at the center of my universe
i am the funniest man alive

i heard somewhere we laugh so we don’t cry
if that’s true, then at the center of my universe
i am the funniest man alive

(lackluster lyrics... lackluster lyrics...)

oft deft but most times either deaf or in debt
minus those last two. well, sometimes those last two
but I would like to think I heard every last goddamn word she said.
wouldn’t we all? too bad. the forced indentions
of ill-placed and worse interpreted intentions are the banal
brush strokes that have ruined modern art.
so call me brilliant now because I just indirectly criticized myself
but am quite cognizant of having done so…
and now he’s not rhyming and simultaneously speaking
in third person. the audacity, his subtle pausing
allowing us time to paint in whatever we so desire,
a maximalist minimalist we’ll call him – paltry –
hang him up in the met
while he hangs himself in his own house
by age twenty-three in some estranged homage to
ian curtis: turgid.
he heard somewhere we laugh so that we don’t cry
if that’s true, then at the center of his universe
he is the funniest man lamenting

i heard somewhere we laugh so we don’t cry
if that’s true, then at the center of my universe
i am the funniest man alive

(lackluster lyrics... lackluster lyrics...)

please now banshee won’t you kill me (darling), i am so tired of laughing
please now christopher won’t you kill me (winston), i am so tired of crying
please now rachel won’t you kill me (charleston), i am so tired of singing
please now samantha won’t you kill me (yonkers), i am so tired of breathing
please now laura won’t you kill me (claire), i am so tired of painting
please now grant won’t you kill me (why?), i am so tired of being... (alive)