The Cappuccino effect
Short Song
BT Revolution


It doesn’t matter how. The bleeding took a rest
So much for medication
Was ill for quite some time
Those lazy occupants
Just say no, Prozac nation

Assault by 22., CPR’d back to life
He needs his share to keep what’s wrong in sight
Throwing Molotovs, vacuuming under rugs
The combination, his demise

I have to draw a line as healthy as this gets
Not quite at the blue collar
Surrender while I can, drink-road ceased to exist
Statement reveals post-weakness

A workout membership, a comeback into life
Sweat washes out the things done out of spite
Thread is working fine and everything’s in place
To complete format just press space

Cheap, at least not charity-receiver anymore
A good thing we had some funds stored
High-risk accounts never paid for
People like us must learn to safe without becoming bored

Or is that wrong
Slowing it down would cause a halt benefiting no one
Except fatigued and young people
It still beats being left in the cold

We used to have some fun
Almost normal couples have only time to be home every day
It doesn’t mean I’m hateful
It doesn’t mean you're right
If you say I need help, ok


Might be drunk, but I will state it here:
Alcohol is okay, no matter what it tastes
Bring a cheer on with your company
Complementing the summer night

One more for me
I need this beer
Just stay right here
For you and me and what we’ll be
Just stay right here

Easy to get away
Pretending that it’s new
Just be the one I’ve wanted to

And the summer’s like I thought it’d be
Perfections for an elite, I don’t care
I half complete is what you think you enjoy
I will keep giving half of me


Walk outta here
All the fear and the sin you leave behind
Don’t look back, don’t you dare
If you turn, you turn into salt
Or just plain, like the rest
The nostalgia-junkies
Wrong as hippies, not as dumb
Still worth celebrating

I don’t really care
it’s just a tan of human
T-shirts you’ll never wear
Small-talk’s fine,
as long as we keep the line or policy:
ideals die once they leave room

Talk all the time
Kill silence
What’s important is never said
Not a word, not a sign
In this handicapped language
View report, section 8
This one makes it every time,
Injustice, philanthropy can block the vision

Do winners plan at winner meetings what winners are to do
And how loosing is defined
Makes it easy not to choose
But then voting should be mandatory
Will is not a joke
It doesn’t mean I’m powerless,
just a slow learner and homesick

Dull, that I am, worse than most, dullnessly I’m Mandrake
Something to do, something new, something I won’t care to do

The Cappuccino Effect

Buy in excess of needs
While selling became a deed
I wouldn’t call it natural even if it’s the template
A generation of pragmatics is my fate

Speak of the devil; here are the boys and girls
Of convenient lifestyles, challenges free from Kurds
If you’re looking for ambition, we got stash like Whitney’s pills

Breeding like musketeers
Before we know it they’re everywhere
And it’s too late to prevent it, we might as well just take the fall
Take comfort in that one doesn’t mean all

Speak of the devil; here are the boys and girls
With their neatly manufactured consent, and shirts that are curled
If you ask a friends opinion, it’s NME’s you get
Like some say, you shouldn’t gamble, just bet

Things you love loose all values once
They go free market
Available for people, for everybody everywhere

Short Song

Foot massage and candy
Bliss summed in two words
Fall asleep eleven
Her boyfriend comes around three

Adjust some things
It can wait
I still remember why
Rip off mom’s sugar shop
Don’t dare to diabete

Strawberries and rain men
Idol and best friend
Repeat 1 Choir Hotel
In cars with tele-screens

Met you when Diddy was known
as Puff, not Mr. Pop
Left off with that dull guy’s bike
and his gigantic ass

Here’s a thought: I love you
My favourite flavour
Oxygen and Honey
Hope you won’t get bored

Benny Toledo Revolution

”Anger is a gift”,
I used to chant along with dreadlock choirs
in the right context I’d still agree
Corporation parties are ok as long as I am wired
Not religious naked chef wannabes

What here?
I’ll bring the stapler you bring the beer
I’ll provide the torture
You bring the fear

Evacuate the elders, an eruption’s coming
And I would say it’s justified
An opening in the skin makes your mind wondering,
“What would fit inside?”
So I pull out my new nail gun

I used to say I’d never wanna tear the world a part
And I was young and I was just naïve
Those certain powers you experience
I would never want it back