from by Stickup Kid

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A small core in the center of a vast and ever expanding black hole
Just a body beneath our feet
We simply stand above her, ignoring
But cloaked beneath all the clutter, the avarice, and greed there lies a soul
Never in charge and no control
Like advocating for peace with a chokehold
We spread our seed, bomb nations into wastelands overseas
We sit and watch
And like demons speaking out with ire
The word will spread like wildfire
And the dope fiends will keep asking you for money on the street
But you’ll keep walking ‘cause it’s not a part of your big scene
This rationale is fucked up and incomplete
Are we only contribution to the selfish anthropocentric destiny?
Biting the bullet with gold teeth
Distorting the truth for convenience
Or are we just a small piece insignificantly rotating inside of a big machine?
Never a reason and no belief
No having a vision with no eyes there to see
We are the winning breed!
Congratulations, we’re number one human beings
Raise your cups, you gotta drink up while your beer’s still cold
You’ll pay the tab when you get old
Responsibility, clumsily placed in the hands of the many
What will it take to stop this juggernaut that we’ve conceived?
A hurricane of our own feces?
Or a tidal wave of our own plastic debris?


from Debris, released February 19, 2016



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Stickup Kid San Jose, California


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