Crawling in my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
Discomfort endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting, reacting
Against my will I stand beside my own reflection
It’s haunting how I can’t seem
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
Without a sense of confidence I’m convinced
That there’s just too much pressure to take
I’ve felt this way before
So insecure
Do you have the time to listen to me whine
About nothing and everything all at once
I am one of those
Melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone
No doubt about it
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I’m cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Or am I just stoned?
I went to a shrink
To analyze my dreams
She says it’s lack of sex that’s bringing me down
I went to a whore
He said my life’s a bore
So quit my whining cause it’s bringing her down
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I’m cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
A ya-ya-ya
I’m the son of rage and love
The Jesus of Suburbia
From the bible of none of the above
On a steady diet of
Soda pop and Ritalin
No one ever died for my sins in hell
As far as I can tell
At least the ones I got away with
And there’s nothing wrong with me
This is how I’m supposed to be
In a land of make believe
That don’t believe in me
Get my television fix
Sitting on my crucifix
The living room or my private womb
While the Mom’s and Brad’s are away
To fall in love and fall in debt
To alcohol and cigarettes
And Mary Jane
To keep me insane
Doing someone else’s cocaine
And there’s nothing wrong with me
This is how I’m supposed to be
In a land of make believe
That don’t believe in me
At the center of the Earth
In the parking lot
Of the 7-11 where I was taught
The motto was just a lie
It says home is where your heart is
But what a shame
‘Cause everyone’s heart
Doesn’t beat the same
It’s beating out of time
City of the dead
At the end of another lost highway
Signs misleading to nowhere
City of the damned
Lost children with dirty faces today
No one really seems to care
I read the graffiti
In the bathroom stall
Like the holy scriptures of a shopping mall
And so it seemed to confess
It didn’t say much
But it only confirmed that
The center of the earth
Is the end of the world
And I could really care less
City of the dead
At the end of another lost highway
Signs misleading to nowhere
City of the damned
Lost children with dirty faces today
No one really seems to care
Everyone’s so full of shit
Born and raised by hypocrites
Hearts recycled but never saved
From the cradle to the grave
We are the kids of war and peace
From Anaheim to the Middle East
We are the stories and disciples of
The Jesus of Suburbia
Land of make believe
And it don’t believe in me
Land of make believe
And it don’t believe
And I don’t care!
I don’t care!
Dearly beloved are you listening?
I can’t remember a word that you were saying
Are we demented or am I disturbed?
The space that’s in between insane and insecure
Oh, therapy, can you please fill the void?
Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed?
Nobody’s perfect and I stand accused
For lack of a better word, and that’s my best excuse
To live and not to breathe
Is to die in tragedy
To run, to run away
To find what you believe
And I leave behind
This hurricane of fucking lies
I lost my faith to this
This town that don’t exist
So I run, I run away
To the lights of masochists
And I leave behind
This hurricane of fucking lies
And I walked this line
A million and one fucking times
But not this time
I don’t feel any shame, I won’t apologize
When there ain’t nowhere you can go
Running away from pain when you’ve been victimized
Tales from another broken home
Here comes the rain again
Falling from the stars
Drenched in my pain again
Becoming who we are
As my memory rests
But never forgets what I lost
Wake me up when September ends
Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends
I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I’m the only one and I walk alone
My shadow’s the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart’s the only thing that’s beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
‘Til then I walk alone…
Bernard Lowe: I guess people like to read about the things that they want the most and experience the least.
Westworld S01E03
Robert Ford: You want to know the saddest thing I ever saw? When I was a boy, my brother and I wanted a dog, so our father took in an old greyhound. You’ve never seen a greyhound, have you, Bill?
Bill: Seen a few showdowns in my day.
Robert Ford: A greyhound is a racing dog. Spends its life running in circles, chasing a bit of felt made up like a rabbit. One day, we took it to the park. Our dad had warned us how fast that dog was, but we couldn’t resist. So, my brother took off the leash, and in that instant, the dog spotted a cat. I imagine it must have looked just like that piece of felt. He ran. Never saw a thing as beautiful as that old dog running. Until, at last, he finally caught it. And to the horror of everyone, he killed that little cat. Tore it to pieces. Then he just sat there, confused. That dog had spent its whole life trying to catch that… thing. Now it had no idea what to do.
Westworld S01E05
Robert Ford: I wonder, what do you really feel? After all, in this moment, you are in a unique position. A programmer who knows intimately how the machines work and a machine who knows its own true nature.
Bernard Lowe: I understand what I’m made of, how I’m coded, but I do not understand the things that I feel. Are they real, the things I experienced? My wife? The loss of my son?
Robert Ford: Every host needs a backstory, Bernard. You know that. The self is a kind of fiction, for hosts and humans alike. It’s a story we tell ourselves. And every story needs a beginning. Your imagined suffering makes you lifelike.
Bernard Lowe: Lifelike, but not alive? Pain only exists in the mind. It’s always imagined. So what’s the difference between my pain and yours? Between you and me?
Robert Ford: This was the very question that consumed Arnold, filled him with guilt, eventually drove him mad. The answer always seemed obvious to me. There is no threshold that makes us greater than the sum of our parts, no inflection point at which we become fully alive. We can’t define consciousness because consciousness does not exist. Humans fancy that there’s something special about the way we perceive the world, and yet we live in loops as tight and as closed as the hosts do, seldom questioning our choices, content, for the most part, to be told what to do next. No, my friend, you’re not missing anything at all.
Westworld S01E08
You just stood there screaming
Fearing no one was listening to you
They say the empty can rattles the most
The sound of your own voice must soothe you
Hearing only what you want to hear
And knowing only what you’ve heard
You, you’re smothered in tragedy
And you’re out to save the world
You still stood there screaming
No one caring about these words you tell
My friend, before your voice is gone
One man’s fun is another’s hell
These times are sent to try men’s souls
But something’s wrong with all you see
You, you’ll take it on all yourself
Remember, misery loves company
In the wastelands of today
Where there’s nothing left to lose
And there’s nothing more to take
But you force yourself to choose
In the wastelands of today
Where tomorrow disappears
While the future slips away
And your hope turns into fear
And your hope turns into fear
In the wastelands of today
I do my best
Don’t even start to ask me why
There is no truth, so how the hell
Can you call me a liar?
Life is a game, and I fucking lost it
But still YOU cry?
Wish I had a heart
At least I could die
Please somebody take my mind off my mind
Don’t bother to come, I drink alone
Just by living I’m taking my own life
Don’t bother to come, I drink alone
Tomorrow is gonna be too much
Don’t bother to come, I drink alone
Ending this joke, pulling the plugs
Don’t bother to come, I drink alone
Everybody hates me now, so fuck it
Blood’s on my face and my hands, don’t know why, I’m not afraid to cry
But that’s none of your business
Whose life is it? Get it? See it? Feel it? Eat it? Spin it around
So I can spit in his face
I wanna leave without a trace
Get out, I don’t want to die in this place
People = Shit
People = Shit (What you gonna do?)
People = Shit (‘Cuz I’m not afraid of you)
People = Shit (I’m everything you’ll never be)
People = Shit
It never stops
You can’t be everything to everyone
Contagion, I’m sitting on the side of satan
What do you want from me?
They never told me the failure I was meant to be
Overdo it, don’t tell me you blew it, stop your bitchin’
And fight your way through it
I’m not like you
I just fuck up
C’mon motherfucker, everybody has to die
C’mon motherfucker, everybody has to die
wasted 