a woman on the radio talks about revolution
when it's already passed her by

bob dylan didn't have this to sing about,
you know it feels good to be alive

i saw the decade end,
when it seemed the world would change in the blink of an eye
and if anything,
then there's your sign of the times

i was alive and i waited, waited
i was alive and i waited for this
right here, right now, there is no other place i wanna be
right here, right now, watching the world wake up from history



close my eyes, let the whole thing pass me by
there is no time to waste asking why
i'll run away with you, by my side
i'll run away with you by my side
i need to let go of this pride

i think about your face and how i fall into your eyes
the outline that i trace around the one that i call mine
time that called for space, unclear where you drew the line
i don't need to solve this case and i don't need to look behind

do i expect to change the past i hold inside?
with all the words i say repeating over in my mind
some things you can't erase, no matter how hard you try
an exit to escape is all there is left to find

close my eyes, let the whole thing close my eyes
let the whole thing pass me by
there is no time to waste asking why
i'll run away with you, by my side
i'll run away with you by my side
i need to let go of this pride
until this echo in my mind
until this echo can subside



she seems dressed in all the rings
of past fatalities
so fragile, yet so devious
she continues to see
climatic hands that press her temples and my chest
enter the night that she came home... forever

she is everything and more...
the solemn hypnotic
my dahlia, bathed in possession, she is home to me
i get nervous, perverse, when i see her it's worse
but the stress is astounding
it's now or never, she's coming home... forever

oh... she's the only one that makes me sad

hard to say what caught my attention
fixed and crazy... aphid attraction
carved my name in my face to recognize
such a pheromone cult to terrorize

i'm a slave and i am a master
no restraints and unchecked collectors
i exist through my needs to self–oblige
she is something in me that i despise

i won't let this build up inside of me!

she isn't real, i can't make her real

she seemed dressed in all of me,
stretched across my shame
all the torment and the pain
leaked through and covered me
i'd do anything to have her to myself,
just to have her for myself
now i don't know what to do,
i don't know what to do when she makes me sad

she is everything to me
the unrequited dream,
the song that no one sings,
the unattainable
she's a myth that i have to believe in
all i need to make it real is one more reason
i don't know what to do
i don't know what to do when she makes me sad

but i won't let this build up inside of me
a catch in my throat,
choke, torn into pieces,
i won't, no, i don't want to be this
but i won't let this build up inside of me

she isn't real, i can't make her real



as you science–minded readers may be aware,
there is a little thing called the periodic table
each of the different colors represents a different kind of element
[blues are alkali/alkaline metals, yellows are transitional metals, etc]
and it are lookin' a little something like this:

now, something clever people like to do is riff on the idea of the periodic table
there's the queeriodic table, the periodic table of the internet,
the periodic table of vulgarity, the periodic table of typefaces,
the periodic tables of beer, marketing, meat, irrational nonsense,
and, of course, the periodic tables of /b/, memes, sex, and final fantasy
but, in all the wit, pith, and downright inanity,
i felt there was something missing,
something direly important and fulfilling
and so, i present you with…

Alkali/Alkaline metals [blue] — Old Money
these metals have been around longer than anyone
so long, in fact, they can't remember who first acquired their leviathan wealth
potassium has at least three yachts, a couple family mansions,
and you have the misfortunate of knowings about their insufferable children,
[cesium and francium, who is just SO rare she's a princess, don't ya know]
they constantly and consistently talk about themselves in glowing verbosity
while considering anyone with less than half their wealth to be 'riff raff'
they NEVER associate with the commoners, i.e. the other metals
don't bother themselves with pedantic exercises like academia, politics, and the like
all they are concerned about is marrying their own status/more money/both
[little known fact: the entire 'unun' series is magnesium and radium's inbred spawn]
and making sure they have as few neighbors as possible
[because how are you supposed to be untouchable with those miscreants nearby?]

Lanthanides/Actinides [gray] — the Nouveau Riche
these folk are, if possible, even more insufferable pricks than the old money
lanthanum's a self–made man [which is as close to arsenic as a phrase can come],
which means there was a time it and actinium weren't filthy rich
so to make up for this obvious shortcoming,
and to completely bury their working class backgrounds
[they were originally transitional metals, as you can tell by their position]
they make themselves out to be even older money than the old money
which, of course, is a ruse you can see through in a second
[old money refuses to associate with them:
ytterbium and curium got wasted at one of sodium's high–society shindigs once,
and tried to gangbang strontium in the wine cellar
ever since then, they've been prohibited from inhabiting official table space]
the only reason they have their wealth in the first place is thanks to nuclear physics:
uranium, neptunium, and plutonium had to go be all important and shit
and so now we're stuck with lazy, egregious extended family living vicariously

Transition Metals [yellow] – the Proletariat
these poor bastards have the unfortunate distinction of being the working class
the serfs, the indentured servants, the slaves, the downtrodden, the immigrants
NO ONE likes them, and no one thinks they work hard enough
[even though tungsten, iron, cobalt, and nickel more than pull their own weight]
these are the elements left to prop up the rest of the table, especially the gases
[especially those cocksucking nonmetals, the arrogant pricks]
though gold and platinum have been basically deciding the currency rate for years,
they're constantly looked down on because of their salt–of–the–earth origins
[if there's one thing the alkali/nes absolutely CANNOT abide,
it's coming out of the dirt in a nugget]
in spite of their superior numbers, and great organizational abilities,
the transitions will never be able to improve their lot
the most they've ever gained is their association with the post–transitions,
[and let me tell you, aluminium threw a bitch fit about that one,
though tin and lead finally got it to come around,
after they all got squared away, they threw an EPIC bender to celebrate
the rabble always finds solace in booze, it seems]
so, despite doing more than their fair share, and actually being quite valuable
the transitionals will always and forevermore catch shit from everyone else
especially the…

Metalloids [green] — the Middle Class 
[for clarification's sake, i don't mean this in the sense of the American middle class
i mean this in the sense of being between the proletariat and upper classes]
now these guys, the metalloids, are the cocksuckers that NOBODY likes
they're always the ones telling the transitionals what to do and when
dictating orders like shop foremen and acting like their better than them
antimony especially incites rabid hatred amongst pretty much everyone,
[mostly due to the ongoing debate about how to pronounce its fucking name]
boron really gets the transitional's goat because he's perched on top of aluminium,
acting all superior and looking at the transitionals like he's their master
[and yeah, there's a reason he's on top of aluminium
that greedy bastard'll do anything to get into high society]
the only one the transitionals will never try to cross is silicon,
because he's the one who can outsource all their jobs
and while life may suck now, it'd suck even more without shit to do

Nonmetals [orange] — the Upper Class
now these are the assholes that the metals AND metalloids hate
these are the bastards who own things and take the moral/societal high ground
they were blessed with 'different' uses than their metallic counterparts,
and they lord it over them as though it was just fate that made it this way
oxygen and nitrogen think their necessity renders them certain stations in life,
and thus need to be 'cared for' because they are, after all,
SO busy with all the work they need to care for
phosphorous and sulphur, on the other hand, are just fat and lazy
they're the gross fucks who don't mind doing pedantic work to get richly rewarded
the metals detest everything they stand for,
and the metalloids, who will always try to shirk their metallic heritage,
desperately try to join them or become them
[which is why the metals will always hate them more]
they'll never get pissed at carbon, though
he was the one from the ghetto who actually made it,
through years of extremely hard work and great opportunity, he actually made it
the metalloids hate him because of it, but the transitionals adore him for it
and it gives them just a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe,
it'll happen for them too

Noble Gases/Halogens [red] – the Bourgeoisie
these power–hungry fuckers are at the top of the elemental food chain
they own everything, control everything, and make a grand show of it
they mock the upper class for having so much yet being so worthless,
they turn their nose up at the middle class for having to deal with the riff raff
and they ignore the proletariat because, honestly, why encourage them?
they've been self–promoting themselves for eternity,
even going so far as inserting themselves into comic books
[which forever alienated the transitionals;
'krypton' was originally supposed to be called 'osmium' in the superman canon]
they've had a deathgrip on political power for as long as anyone can remember
helium actually inherited its position from hydrogen when hydrogen 'retired'
hydrogen's abdication to become old money has perplexed EVERYONE
[normally old money can't be bothered with things like power and ownership
they think of it as a distraction and a bore]
especially since hydrogen was, at one point, the original nouveau riche
apparently time changes all

Ununs [purple] — Inbred bastard children
this sad sack of shit is the reason you don't fuck your siblings
the one thing the old money, nouveau riche, and bourgeoisie have in common is this:
they don't want to mix common blood into their elitist cloud of ignorance
doing so severely limits the available gene pool,
and like any decent elitist snobs, they started breeding with each other
[much the way european royals did/do]
and like happens when you do that, occasionally some offspring don't turn out right
someone's missing an ear, someone's got webbed toes,
some little ununquadium's gonna look like the wolfman
and though these unfortunate specimen are usually shipped off,
ne'er to be heard from again from polite society,
occasionally some of the insolent bastards try and stick around
and no one wants to associate with some half–blind, web–toed albino inbreed
so they ended up at the bottom of the societal totem
not to be seen or heard from,
but simply to serve as a reminder that it can, in fact, get much worse
so as much as the transitionals may hate their lot in life
at least they aren't polydactyl albino hemophiliacs, like ununseptium