Death is inevitable. It’s a promise made to each of us at birth. But before that promise is kept, we all hope something will happen to us. Whether it’s the thrill of romance, the joy of raising a family, or the anguish of great loss. We all hope to experience something that make our lives meaningful. But the sad fact is not all lives have meaning. Some people spend their time on this planet just sitting on the sidelines, waiting for something to happen to them, before it’s too late.
Murray: So, I know you’re a comedian. You been working on any new material? You wanna tell us a joke?
Joker: Yeah? Okay.
Murray: He’s got a book. A book of jokes. Take your time. We got all night.
Joker: Okay, okay. Here’s one. Knock, knock.
Murray: And you had to look that up?
Joker: I want to get it right. Knock, knock.
Murray: Who’s there?
Joker: It’s the police, ma’am. Your son’s been hit by a drunk driver. He’s dead.
Doctor: Oh, no, no, no. No, you cannot joke about that.
Murray: Yeah, that’s not funny, Arthur. That’s not the kind of humor we do on this show.
Joker: Okay. I’m… Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s just, you know, it’s been a rough few weeks, Murray. Ever since I killed those three Wall Street guys.
Murray: Okay, I’m waiting for the punchline.
Joker: There is no punchline. It’s not a joke.
Murray: You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re telling us you killed those three young men on the subway?
Joker: Mmm-hmm.
Murray: And why should we believe you?
Joker: I got nothing left to lose. Nothing can hurt me anymore. My life is nothing but a comedy.
Murray: Well, let me get this straight, you think that killing those guys is funny?
Joker: I do. And I’m tired of pretending it’s not. Comedy is subjective, Murray. Isn’t that what they say? All of you, the system that knows so much, you decide what’s right or wrong. The same way that you decide what’s funny or not!
Murray: Well, okay, I think I might understand that you did this to start a movement, to become a symbol?
Joker: Come on, Murray. Do I look like the kind of clown that could start a movement? I killed those guys because they were awful. Everybody is awful these days. It’s enough to make anyone crazy.
Murray: Okay. So, that’s it, you’re crazy. That’s your defense for killing three young men?
Joker: No. They couldn’t carry a tune to save their lives. Oh, why is everybody so upset about these guys? If it was me dying on the sidewalk, you’d walk right over me! I pass you every day, and you don’t notice me. But these guys, what, because Thomas Wayne went and cried about them on TV?
Murray: You have a problem with Thomas Wayne, too?
Joker: Yes, I do. Have you seen what it’s like out there, Murray? Do you ever actually leave the studio? Everybody just yells and screams at each other. Nobody’s civil anymore. Nobody thinks what it’s like to be the other guy. You think men like Thomas Wayne ever think what it’s like to be someone like me? To be somebody but themselves? They don’t. They think that we’ll just sit there and take it, like good little boys! That we won’t werewolf and go wild!
Murray: You finished? I mean, it’s so much self-pity, Arthur. You sound like you’re making excuses for killing those young men. Not everybody, and I’ll tell you this, not everyone is awful.
Joker: You’re awful, Murray.
Murray: Me? I’m awful? Oh, yeah, how am I awful?
Joker: Playing my video. Inviting me on this show. You just wanted to make fun of me. You’re just like the rest of them.
Murray: You don’t know the first thing about me, pal. Look what happened, because of what you did. What it led to. There are riots out there. Two policemen are in critical condition, and you’re laughing. You’re laughing. Someone was killed today, because of what you did.
Joker: I know. How about another joke, Murray?
Murray: No, I think we’ve had enough of your jokes.
Joker: What do you get…
Murray: I don’t think so.
Joker: …when you cross a mentally-ill loner with a society that abandons him and treats him like trash?
Murray: Call the police, Gene!
Joker: I’ll tell you what you get!
Murray: Call the police.
Joker: You get what you fuckin’ deserve! [Shoots Murray in the head]
Clementine [To AJ]: All this. It’s worth it. All those times you’d ask me if we’d find a home… All I could ever tell you was “we’ll see”. And your face would fall every single time. But you want to know something I didn’t tell you? I never had a plan. I never knew where we were going. I never knew anything. I just fought and fought and fought, and hoped you didn’t notice. Hoped we’d find something before you did. Did I do a good job?
Walter White [To Pinkman]: You’re really lucky, you know that? You didn’t have to wait your whole life to do something special.
Stapled shut, inside an outside world and I’m
Sealed in tight, bizarre but right at home
Claustrophobic, closing in and I’m
Catastrophic, not again
I’m smeared across the page, and doused in gasoline
I wear you like a stain, yet I’m the one who’s obscene
Catch me upon all your sordid little insurrections
I’ve got no time to lose, and I’m just caught up in all the cattle
I am a world before I am a man
I was a creature before I could stand
I will remember before I forget
Before I forget that
I’m ripped across the ditch, and settled in the dirt and I’m
I wear you like a stitch, yet I’m the one who’s hurt
Pay attention to your twisted little indiscretions
I’ve got no right to win, I’m just caught up all the battles
I am a world before I am a man
I was a creature before I could stand
I will remember before I forget
Before I forget that
My end
It justifies my means
All I have to do is delay
I’m given time to evade
The end of the road is my end
It justifies my means
All I have to do is delay
I haven’t time to evade
The end of the road!
What have I done?
Where have I come from?
When I burnt the backs with the sun through a glass
Did I seal the loss that’s become me?
Feeling undone, what have I become?
When I turned my back on you
I turned my back on myself and became this machine
I feel it on the inside
Twisting and contorting
Memory has shaped me once again
Still feel you on the inside
Biting through and stinging
Will I ever forget to remember?
Shadows in the sun
Filter through us
Still wrestle the demons that arrested me as a child
Confession rejected
We grow up to give up
People step on the cracks for wounds owed
Paid back through the words of surrender
I feel it on the inside
Twisting and contorting
Memory has shaped me once again
Still feel you on the inside
Biting through and stinging
Will I ever forget to remember?
Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide
No escape from reality
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I’m just a poor boy
I need no sympathy
Because I’m easy come, easy go
Little high, little low
Anyway the wind blows
Doesn’t really matter to me, to me…
Mama, just killed a man
Put a gun against his head
Pulled my trigger and now he’s dead
Mama, life had just begun
But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away
Mama, ooh, didn’t mean to make you cry
If I’m not back again this time tomorrow
Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters
Too late, my time has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Body’s aching all the time
Goodbye everybody, I’ve got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth
Mama, ooh, I don’t want to die
I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all
I see a little silhouetto of a man
Scaramouch, scaramouch, will you do the fandango?
Thunderbolt and lightning very very frightening me
Gallileo, Gallileo
Gallileo, Gallileo
Gallileo Figaro, magnifico
I’m just a poor boy and nobody loves me
He’s just a poor boy from a poor family
Spare him his life from this monstrosity
Easy come, easy go, will you let me go
Bismillah! No we will not let you go, let him go
Bismillah! We will not let you go, let him go
Bismillah! We will not let you go, let me go
Will not let you go, let me go
Never, never, never, never, never let me go
No, no, no, no, no, no, no
Oh, mama mia, mama mia, mama mia let me go
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me…
So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to die
Oh, baby, can’t do this to me, baby
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here
Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters
Nothing really matters to me
Anyway the wind blows…
These are the eyes that can’t see me
These are the hands that drop your trust
These are the boots that kick you around
This is the tongue that speaks on the inside
These are the ears that ring with hate
This is the face that’ll never change
This is the fist that grinds you down
This is the voice of silence no more
These are the legs in circles run
This is the beating you’ll never know
These are the lips that taste no freedom
This is the feel thats not so safe
This is the face you’ll never change
This is the god that ain’t so pure
This is the god that is not pure
This is the voice of silence no more
This is the face that stones you cold
This is the moment that needs to breathe
These are the claws that scratch these wounds
This is the pain that never leaves
This is the tongue that whips you down
This is the burden of every man
These are the screams that pierce your skin
This is the voice of silence no more
This is the test of flesh and soul
This is the trap that smells so good
This is the flood that drains these eyes
These are the looks that chill to the bone
These are the fears that swing overhead
These are the weights that hold you down
This is the end that will never end
This is the voice of silence no more
This is the cloud that swallows trust
This is the black that uncolors us
This is the face that you hide from
This is the mask that comes undone
Ominous, I am in us
Ominous, I am in us
Ominous, I am in us
Ominous, I am in us
They think they know who I am
All they know is I love to kill
Face down, dead on the ground
Find me before another is found
Somewhere beyond happiness and sadness
I need to calculate what creates my own madness
And I’m addicted to your punishment
And you’re the master
And I am waiting for disaster
I feel irrational
So confrontational
To tell the truth I am
Getting away with murder
It isn’t possible
To never tell the truth
But the reality is I’m getting away with murder
I drink my drink and I don’t even want to
I think my thoughts when I don’t even need to
I never look back ’cause I don’t even want to
And I don’t need to
Because I’m getting away with murder
I feel irrational
So confrontational
To tell the truth I am
Getting away with murder
It isn’t possible
To never tell the truth
But the reality is I’m getting away with murder
wasted 