Artex Monkey Smells Like Brocken Biskits

Wi got brocken in. Brocken art. Negative. Painting.
The whole fuckin stack lit up like fuckin bonny
neet. Am fed up. A keep tellin em av got ter
gerrart. The dunt believe me. The dunt beleeve am
fuckin capable. A tell em am a profit. The dunt fuckin
listen. Too busy thinking abart yesterdi and worrying
abart nar. This. Like it's killin em. Like it's
dragging em darn inter them pits their fuckin idio
fatha's dug. Ter berry em all alive. Yer tell me
they're brocken. The spirits. A knew it early on. Thed
never break mi spirit. Even when a wor a kid being
killed by the fuckin Government. Been fuckin killed by
mi own kind. But a knew peace will always out. A wor
like sum fuckin Gandhi just lerrin em kick. A wor allus
sumwier else an al tek these fukkers wi mi am tellin
yer even if I have to kill em. I int know fuckin
brocken man. Escape can only cum wi a shift into self
awareness. We are more than just a biomass for the
capitalist machine. This has to be understood.
Peeple may die. But many are already dead. That is
not living. Love matters. But not the kind that
they preach at the chapel. Work hard or yer dunt get
Mars bars in the after life. Buttercups our fuckin
gold! Gi mi a fuckin break. A want me gold now. A
dunt want to live in some shit oil eatin weeds. We
wor poor, but we wor happy. Onny poor people can know
true happiness. We it's an interesting thought to av
as carcasses rot. Excuse me you poor bastard. How
happy would you say you are on a scale of one to ten?
Sorry, what was that? A dint quite catch it... Oh you
appear to have fuckin died... That's a little
inconvenient. Smells like brocken biskits...

Le Monstre