All Murdoc wanted from me were songs for his band, vocals for his band and fame and money for his band. His latest twisted album had me gassed and shipped to this island. Here I was to sing and write songs in my underwater prison with a bloody whale to keep me here.
Damn cetophobia.
Taking a break from the song writing, I remembered what the outside looked like, felt like...Freedom. I hated it here. This place, it's like Feel Good Inc. all over again. I wanted so badly to wake up from this horrid nightmare.
But it was all fuckin' real.
This island, this place...It's a casio is what it is...A casio on a Plastic beach...A casio...On a plastic beach...
I got it!
I took the pen and paper and scribbled down words in handwriting that could hardly be considered legible.
It's a casio on a plastic beach
It's a casio on a plastic beach
Styrofoam deep sea landfill
Styrofoam deep sea landfill
Is automated computer speech
Is automated computer speach
It's a casio on a plastic beach
It's a casio...
Murdoc came marching in today, as every other day, to check the curtains and ask where his song for his band was. Today, he snatched the lyrics and opened the door the get out. He turned his head to me and said:
"You can come ou' durin' breakfas' lunch an' Dinna', but dun you dare step out onto tha' beach, or I'll 'ave your 'ead...Or ratha', meh cyborg will."
He laughed that crazy, insane, evil laugh of his before leaving me back in my underwater prison. I chuckled to myself. It was all so bittersweet. That the very man who fractured both my eyes and forced me to do his bidding is the one I rely on the most.
He must care, though. Everyday he orders that thing to give me food, mildly clean clothes and buy me more pills. Or maybe he cares about his band. his singer. But then, why leave out Russel and Noodle if he cares about his band so much?
He's complicated, that's what he is. Murdoc's a complicated man.
But us here, we're a complicated band. A complicated family.
It's a complicated life, with a complicated band, the complicated story with a complicated structure and...A simple problem.
We're broken.
AN: Not bad, ainit? Written for around an hour or so, a few more polishing and lengthening the whole story, etc., etc..
Peace!