PROFANE

Coiling deep within your grasp,
flowers with crutches burn like the flames of a torch.
Falling apart has never been so easy.
W W W . M A N S O N U S A . C O M
Encrusted casings of cold, callous memories fade while mutilated hearts drip distinct derisions of decisive defects. Crimson conclusions of a dead Christ hang with red rose thorns in the back of your mind. Weary whispers wishes from the crack of your jaws as venomous virtues violently veer themselves across the landscape of this temporal lobe.
"Sometimes DRUGS can add color to a black mood or exterminate those insects of depression. But only ART, like shards of glass and bloodstained asphalt at an intersection, can capture the pain or lack of it with a beauty that almost resembles a bruise on God. I have seen the side effects of my thoughts and I have found that there is no cure. While it is terminal, I am spelled out in a halcyon font with an unwashed brain and a belief in my new layer of skin. I must advise, that despite the discomfort any creature endures when molting, never hesitate the agony of leaving behind the dead cells.
To stay in that rotten shell you have finally outgrown, you will surely die."
- Marilyn Manson
Dreaming Of The Conqueror Worm
Marilyn Manson and I in Philadelphia with Dreaming Of The Conqueror Worm, which is in his personal collection.
This Crooked Smile
Redeemer
Preeminent Vacillations
The Persistence Of Longing
The planted corpse talks with seven tongues, seven thrones and seven guns. Seven is the number of heaven, my son. Do not cry, it is only a lie. When I die, where will the angels fly?