I am in the night
I am every part of it
The consumption of its beast 
The deck that it deals
The veins that bleed
The caress of its serpent

I am the night
As it writhes and undulates toward dawn
It moans and cries a symphony of anger
I am its agony as it struggles against the light
And dies with the strike of the Sun God.






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 Come In and Burn...
An Unofficial Henry Rollins and Rollins Band Site...
Fuck Yo Mama...
Hello? Is this on? Is this microphone on? There's a point of view I wish to ventilate at this time. It is? Alright then. Well, if it's on, then here I'll go...

You know there are days when your own ignorance rises to such a level that it pulls, even a civilized and cultured man like myself, till it caused and entertained a notion of knockin' all the teeth outta that empty head of yours. But instead of resortin' to such pedestrian means of expressin' modest pleasure I just roll down my window and say...

That's right. You've wanted to rely with lost and complacence. How could I let your stupidity waste the time of others? And that's why there's laws, and jails, and courts, and army's as law enforcement officers, to administrate and ensure that law and order are kept at all times. No doubt with your, ha-ha, alarming lack of self-control. You'd destroy everything in your sight. I miss the smokin' rubble of the ruined nation that you have perpetrated. You would see me laughin' at ya in the mess you've made for the rest of us to clean up. And you always leave it for someone else to clean up, don't ya? Uh-huh, I've been pickin' up after you all my life. Well, you know me...

I couldn't have said it any better myself. Ya say ya hate the world you live in. Room too small. Sky full of pollution. Garbage on the street. Your job does not stimulate that gargantuan intellect of yours. Although with your ponderin' and no sense of self-worth it probably does. Ya say ya feel controled and watched over, and that Big Brother mentality infuriates you. And you swear to some day break out and do something. Well, the powers that be, are the powers that be, because you are so easy to control, and are so in need of a dope supervision. Now, what's that? The subliterate leading the disfunctional? Ha, ha, ha. Don't tell me that you wouldn't switch places the first chance you got 'em. You're not seeking your freedom. You are just the kept, wishin' you were the keeper. Oh, no? Yeah, right! Let me know when you've evolved, you little dictator in waiting. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha...

Now, as a conclusion, let me say this: If I didn't have a sense of humor about all this, there'd be a lotta dead bodies pilin' up in this town. But, free or not, have an appreciation of history and a prayer for the dramatic. So I'll just watch ya self-destruct, and thank you kindly for your dollars that continually point to my off-shore accounts. Oh, and by the way, one last thing...