"In the Moment" by Murderwords

In the moment, come and gone, past is passed, and 
whatever may come may come
So worry not, hurry not, don't waste a moment on, blurry thoughts, 
'cause wasted time is all for naught

So don't you get caught in the moment, 
regretting what could have been - fretting over the unforeseen
caught up in a moment, never ending, what else is real, stop pretending

Stop depending on tomorrow, stop resenting yesterdays sorrows, 
'cause the present is only borrowed, time and again

...time and again...

"In The Moment"

"Stand By Me" (Cover)

"An Abyss that Stares Right Back into our Awe" By Murderwords

Verse 1: We don’t go looking, don’t where we bury it all.
Encroaches in from the peripheral from out of our wherewithal.
It’s often as many times we come to rise as the times when we tend to fall,
but be that as it may, sometimes we find ourselves back there after all.

Verse 2: Reflections in the surface of an abyss that stares right back into our awe.
Furious curiosity, tenacious animosity.
To draw us inexorably, down into its stygian maw,
makes us all the more nervous at the best of times, it’s but a symptom of our broken minds. 

Chorus: When you start, to tear it all apart, you will find, the parts, 
  don’t fit the way, that they, were first designed. 
  
Verse 3: When someone is choking, they tend to excuse themselves and leave the room, but how many more do we have to lose before we pull back from all this doom and gloom.
It tends to end not with a bang, but rather with a whimpering that looms,
yet we sweep it all under the rug while the memento mori consumes.

Verse 4: We need each other, to know one another is to know ourselves,
but what lies for approval we come to tell, in trying to be someone else.
Sometimes the best course of action is to simply go in blind,
fore what is love and justice if it sees what it has left behind.

Chorus: When you start, to tear it all apart, you will find, the parts, 
  don’t fit the way, that they, were first designed. 
  Start, to tear it all apart, you will find, the heart, 
  has separate instructions from the mind.

"An Abyss that Stares Right Back into our Awe"

"DTES (Down Trodden Empty $ouls)" by Murderwords 

Lord, grant, me, the serenity, to accept the things, we cannot change

Sometimes I take a knee, when nobody else in particular’s looking at me, I’m not trying to be a white knight, never lost sight of person I’m trying to be, s’Imma try’n get my self right, but not so self righteously, so don’t argue with me, y’took a left at the corner I tried to warn ya it’d come back around, never lost sight of you - 
face to face with me, there’s two sets of feet, parted ways, leaving skidmarks on the asphalts of these broken streets, all the dead beat, dead meat, flows downhill into skid row, eventually- to-the-gutter- go - Terminal Avenue, you were not having me having - I wasn’t having you, drowned out in the down and out, fucked around and found out - 
Serendipity, has got nothing to do with the here and now, is it any wonder how, we learned how to survive, I got out alive by a different exit, dunno is what’s coming next, messed myself up with the side effects, they say that Murderwords is a statistic, he’s mentally ill, he’s a social reject, sending wellness checks, we gotta protect him from his demons
Can’t you hear me screaming, used to have a dream, back when I couldn’t believe, things were all so simple then, back when half my friends in the DTES were above the ground, above board, yelling from Hell at the Lord, please look after everybody else, I can take care of myself, my words were murderous, fuck it, I’ll murder this, Murderwords is furious - 

Lord, grant, me, the serenity, to accept the things, we cannot change
Lord, grant, me, the courage to, change, the things I can

Opportunity, people end up out in BC because honestly, anywhere else in Canada, they’d probably freeze to death overnight, see their breath, space heater burn down their tent, the intensity, now they dying in the damp, over-cramped tent cities in and around the lower mainland, sleeping out of their car -  fentanyl’s gentrification -
Decriminalization, instead of tough love, when push comes to shove, policy handed down from above, high on their own supply, if it’s so safe, why do people die, why don’t you demonstrate it’s safe for me, take a hit for yourself at the press conference on the TV, if-it’s not safe for you, it’s not for me,but-I-guess-its-rules-for-me-and-not-for-thee, people’s lives destroyed, coroner says the cause of death’s opioids - Bonnie put mental health on the telephone, she sellin’ hydromorphone to sell to the kids so they can hike into the parks, take a hit and go die alone just off these streets that you’re lying in, all awash full of sin and the stank of the trank and the urine’ and that hopeless feeling, I think big pharma and government do the dealing and then even Murder can’t find the words

Lord, grant, me, the serenity, to accept the things, we cannot change
Lord, grant, me, the courage to, change, the things I can
LORD, GRANT, ME, THE WISDOM TO, KNOW, THE DIFFERENCE

"DTES" (Down Trodden Empty $ouls)

“No Hard Feelings” by Murderwords 2024

Well life’s a bitch, and then you die
If doesn’t matter how you try
And in your end of days and all the different ways you tried it still don’t justify
The reasons why it simply satisfied the damned means to an end

Thought you were my lover, thought you were my friend when you pretended you were not above me, didn’t love me, nothing to defend

A hardened heart all of my own
You cannot squeeze blood from a stone
‘Cuz broken bones from stick and stones and scars will never heal the same way as before
I am a glutton for my punishment, I can always take some more

If I can still can be your lover, can still be your friend, when you pretended you were not above me, didn’t love me, nothing to defend, relentlessly you haunt me, all in time that I’ve come to resent, you are the name of all my shame and all this god damned toxic sentiment 

No hard feelings

All is fair and love and war, but in the end, you know you’re such a fucking whore
Tried to adore you, I abhor you, there is nothing more
Picked up all the pieces of my broken heart and showed myself the door that closes when another opens 
Now your ceiling is my floor

No hard feelings, but that was low, even for you

"No Hard Feelings"

“FRISSONIQUE” by Murderwords

So Observe, the story of, you in, the glory of, you’re undoing, 
Separating, altered states reintegrating
That neuronal tingle singles out the thought of any resistance fades away
The way in is ever much more so the easier path than the doubt that comes with finding one’s own way out

C	It occurs,
H	An unexpected break from what has to come be expected 
O	of the way of things it obscures, 
R	Lulls the defenses against false pretenses, approaches your dullard 
U	senses from the wings
S	When its pure
        Dissonance causes one to shudder, they would not dare to utter any of 
        the unheard words it sings 
        Yet it does not endure
        Conjures up a momentary act of willingness to face the 
        potential dangers that it brings

I believe in nothing because nothing can be believed, I believe
Human being human just to be a human being
You do not see, this experience in every other sense, is not beholden  
to the eye that blinds, the way that finds, is of two minds, 
Reconcile, that sundered awkward thing

Come back to us, made whole anew, let us ask you, what ever even was askew
A whole new you in every moment, cannot hold it, let it go, no, you can never grow until you do
Surrender, stop pretending you have any semblance of control, you have only as much as one could hold a hole in nothing at all, falling with no reference, your redemption is at hand

Let this madness guide you, deep inside you, darkest flame that shines in black to burn away all that was never going back,  turn away all who are not lost by will alone, you are naught

"FRISSONIQUE"

"ME" by Murderwords

Tried to be, everything, I thought everbody else wanted from me
Turns out this facade does not become me, after all

Could have been , anything, 
[I] guess I should've been myself for my well being
They say that seeing is believing but my eyes have been deceiving me, all along

But, I'm not sorry for, this open door, to the war inside my head
or, this bleeding heart, upon my sleeve, you're welcome to take or leave, take it from or leave it to me

Are we free, or are we, simply parts of a whole, or just a means to an end, do we feel with our hearts, while we deal with our souls, that we try to mend

If I were you, or you were me, would we come to be friend or enemy, the circumstances simply dictate what our current situation must force us to be

What should I worry for, am I hoping for more, after I have fallen dead, for, this need of something to believe in, I could give my all instead

 I'm not sorry for, this open door, to the war inside my head
or, this bleeding heart, upon my sleeve, you're welcome to take or leave, make it into something that we

In time, will come, to break, inevitably
What should I worry for, I am not sorry for, 
I am all of, and yet, nothing more, than ME

"ME"

“NPR (Non Pluris Revelatum)”
By Murderwords, 2024

Verse 1: Lo, and behold, the truth can be so hard and, 
Cold comfort therein lies, from whence consequence is rendered,
irregardless of the lies that have been  told. 

Verse 2: The truth is, the truth is not beholden to subjective interpretation of objective information and your feelings are irrelevant, the truth was always meant to be self evident, 
hard lessons in the face of the fallacies bought and sold. 

Chorus: Behold! The truth lies low, the truth dies slow. What lies wherein are born, informed by trial and error of denial in terror of a truth that is to fear itself sworn. 
To lie, inside, a truth that has died, a truth that was denied; A truth I have tried - and failed, 
the truth is betrayal, and lies within lies without fail. 

Outro: Lo, and behold, the truth can be so hard and, 
Cold comfort therein lies, from whence consequence is rendered, 
irregardless of the lies that have been told.

"NPR" (Non Pluris Revelatum)

“Secret Path” by Murderwords

The fields, aside me, They are a bloodbath, 
I tread along, this secret path 
We follow, the northern lights 
and honour our spirits, that they should not express their wrath

We errored, we lost our way, in terror, the cost has been, 
the price we’ve paid, To rise up as we fall, Don’t be scared, 
we walk the right path, in secret, and in the aftermath, the right path, is no 
secret path at all

You used me as you used the people in turn abused before me. 
You ran my, name, into shame, and even from beyond the grave, 
I would reach out if I could to save, for god and country, what have they done to this, thing we valued, collectively I salute you, you who must endure, 
though I can rest assured, you cannot be so sure, 
if tomorrow ever comes 

A nation, that flies its flag upside down in distress, 
how the hell did we end up in this mess, I’d never have guessed, we could wander away, 
so far astray from the path we thought was straight and  true - though (Trudeau) the snakes in the grass beset us by the wayside, and offer us the fruits in great temptation, but even snakes need love, and when push comes to shove, I hope you all prove to move the coldest heart among you, and bring them into the fold, we must all find our way, together in from the cold,
we must all, find the right path again, and the right path is no secret path at all. 

RIP Gord


"Secret Path"

Join Murderwords in displaying the Canada national Flag upside down in a universal sign of distress for this Saturday, February 15th, Canada's National Flag Day and spread the message, we need help. Murderwords out. 

"Flag Day"

“The Last One to Hold On” by Murderwords

1	I sing but I seldom 
find the words come to me from the start
Stumble, mumble, fumble, 
like a diamond in the rough from the heart

2	Tumbled in humble sands
	To erode and shape this meaning
	That the end result stands
	Without collapsing or leaning

Pre-C:	Trial and error
	Is the making out of terror
	Into what was always there
	Before denial was laid bare
Lie all you want if it stops you being scared
Die in the moment, live the life left undared
Don’t waste this life in envy, things can always be compared
For when Death comes to take you, there are few who are prepared

Chorus:	After all of the bother, when you have 
survived everyone
And the rhyme of your reason is like the time that has come and gone
And when the sins of father pass down and come to visit the son
Like water passes  vessel to glass, 
I will be the last one to hold on

And on and on… for now, or never

3	For long is the night, 
and the dark has no sight in the gaunt - let go of your troubles, 
for often the soul goes for want

4	For those loved and lost, Yet without 
them, we still come to haunt-
Edit, there still comes a cost in ghosting each Other, we’re so nonchalant 

Pre-C:	Trial and error
	Is the making out of terror
	Into what was always there
	Before denial is laid bare
Lie all you want if it stops you being scared
[Don't] Die in the moment, live the life left undared
Don’t waste this life in envy, things can always be compared
For when Death comes to take you, there are few who are prepared

Chorus:	After all of the bother, when you have 
survived everyone
And the rhyme of your reason is like the time that has come and gone
And when the words of the mother pass into and twist up her sons
She said, ‘You like your father when you’re angry’, but I will be the last hold on

And on and on… for now, forever

RIP Dad, RIP Mom, I often thought you were the monsters, but the monster becomes me. I am the last to hold on - Murderwords

"The Last to Hold On"

“Subliminal” by Murderwords

V1: [I am] not content, I’m become the hammer to break through, this 4th wall unto you, and express my lament, every interaction came to be the very cement of our ressentiment; Rendered a pretender

V2: Reaching over through firewalls, through algorithmic streams, to lay my hand upon your head and listen to your screams, censored, banned and throttled as we flow into the bottleneck as monoculture normalizes things

V3: Big tech built a cyber-god to save us from ourselves, in our 11th hour, deus ex machina as we become all else, save ourselves, data mines on server shelves, zeroes, ones and nothing in between, we lose all meaning,

 [but] I’m listening now

INTERLUDE: And silence is not the only violence and in a sense, silence is not innocence-

CHORUS: Criminal, the way they come to kill us so subliminal, the say we had’s so futile and so minimal, subversion is subliminal, the way they took, the medium is the message and the hook was so subliminal - technocratic criminals

V4: I’m sorry for, this war we are fighting is no excuse, and you who are listening to this, right here, right now, fight fear, somehow; Just know I have been part of the abuse

V5: Lost my way, trying to make a living off what I say, the songs I sing and things I bring to you, those moments we used to share, they no longer seem to me to be true; It wasn’t you

V6: Prayed to big tech’s cyber-god, took for granted your applause, thought we fought for mutual cause, only to become lost as well, maybe I should stop talking over you and be in the same place, in the same state, and hear what you do too, 

[but] I’m listening now

INTERLUDE 2: To share, in what, you experience, for such, shall be, mine own, deliverance-

CHORUS:

Bridge: I’m just as guilty as them all, 
You are justified in feeling small, after all, 
We are all just pawns designed to fall, 
but I am just as guilty as them all, 

[and] I’m listening now… [instrumental break]

CHORUS:

Outro: “[Shut up and] buy, buy, buy, my new record, send more money, fuck you buddy,” he screamed as we subscribed to his streams, to subsidize his dreams, while the, dreams of, those sold out, you choose to, ignore, guess you, don’t ques-tion authority no more, the end justified the means and-

I-SCREAM, AT-YOU, NOT-SO, SUB-LI-MI-NAL!
I-SCREAM, AT-YOU, NOT-SO, SUB-LI-MI-NAL!
I-SCREAM, AT-YOU, NOT-SO, SUB-LI-MI-NAL!
I-SCREAM, AT-YOU, NOT-SO, SUB-LI-MI-NALLLL!!!...

Are you listening now? 

"Subliminal"


“To Bleed” by Murderwords

V1: What good’s this blood I bleed, 
If it’s not in need? Is this all in vain?
What would this lowly breed, 
of sown seed, slowly to stain

Interlude: write from the mind of me, 
to find the right of me
Two wolves that fight in me
In need, to feed, to BLEED.

V2: What of these words that can murder? 
That which goes unheard by 
any other name is self defeat
[and] What if the man in the paper bag mask, 
never asked to become this monstrosity, 
but for the need to be

Refrain: inside of me
In sight of me, 
in spite of me…to bleed

Interlude 2: There’s beauty in vulgarity, 
Truth to power’s scarcity
Ruthless vulnerability
Behold what you should not, could not, would not see

Bridge: Bleed, blood, sweat  and 
Tears, blood met my
Fears, onslaught for
Years, look into the holes,
where my eyes used to be, 
and you’ll see what I see - 
ask me why I died inside, 
this paper bag mask,
To be free…

Refrain: Inside of me
In sight of me, 
In spite of me…to bleed

Outro: What of these words that can murder?

"To Bleed"

DADGAD (Delay and Denial, Gross Death and Depositon) by Murderwords

	‘You’re call is very important to us, please stay on the line and an operator will be with you shortly. If this is an emergency, please, hang up and dial 9-1-1 and - KZHTK - ‘Hello, Crisis Line, how can I help you?’ -

V1 - Gotta get outta my own way, my own way, in my own way
Thought I oughtta let go of the dismay, of the dismay, in my dismay
Brought a lotta dark shit to the foreground, from the background, now its all ‘round, 

like a white noise, 

V2 - In the nightcore, and the bluescreen, From the laptop, 
as I scream into the void, fucking destroyed, laying on the cold hard floor, 
but were free range, off the reserve, probably getting what we fucking deserve, 

section 8 and a snafu, so fuck you, sorry that this was the best I could do, 

hope I don’t disappoint you, are the lies true, that our minds say, gotta get outta my own way, my own way, fucking lonely, struggling for detection of connection, the signal, is in freefall, so damn it all, damaged goods don’t make us a human, I miss you, but I miss myself more than I ever did before, forever, will we ever, ‘cuz I never, thought I’d try to get my shit back together, body, mind and, soul like the weather, so whatever, on a scale of one to ten, when the one is the lie first said and where the ten is what becomes of the worst off, so first off, how many are we losing to five here, in the great fear, that you don’t hear, we out there struggling just to survive here, while we suffer, and then we scapegoat the fives as the buffer, had enough for, one life of stryfe in this hurting, 9+1+1 is 11, off the scale, exiled from Heaven, and I’m grieving, stopped believing, when the Hell did it become so uneven, in the burden, and the word then, is mercy, and I have none, and I don’t think, you do either,I’m alive here, just another fucking survivor. 

IN MY OWN WAY, MY OWN WAY, GOTTA GET OUTTA MY OWN WAY, IN MY DISMAY, MY DISMAY, BROUGHT A LOTTA DARK SHIT TO THE FOREGROUND, FROM THE BACKGROUND, IN WHITE NOISE, OF THE NIGHTCORE, WHAT THE FUCKING HELL AM I STILL ALIVE FOR, ALIVE FOR, ALIVE FOR, JUST ANOTHER FUCKING SURVIVOR, SURVIVOR, SURVIVOR, BREAK A TEN AND GIVE ME A FIVER, and the writing, on the wall is, clawing and biting tooth and nail, tooth and nail, tooth and nail, eye for an eye am sick of fighting, sick of fighting, all the fighting, what the fuck am I still alive for, alive for, alive for, just for another fucking survivor…

-CLICK. [EMS Sirens in background, shuffling, Dialtone…]


DADGAD (Delay and Denial, Gaslighting and Depositon) by Murderwords

“Petrichor” by Murderwords

Ocean tides,
Mist borne winds,
Storm filled skies.

Dust runs dry,
Thirsts for drink,
From on high.

Moribund,
Regolith,
Made fecund

Petrichor.

Lost and found
Artifacts
Echoes’ bound

Lost my way
Far and vast
Dost thou stray?

Found the peace
Long forgot
In release

Metaphor.

All the time
In the world
Pantomime

If this wall
Great divide
Comes to fall

Tears in eyes
Rise and fall
Realize

Ever more. Metaphor. Petrichor...

"Petrichor"

“Heartless” by Murderwords

One step further, 
words are murder
controversy,  oh lord
Have mercy on me

I can only, 
serve this fervor 
Gets so lonely, getting 
what I deserve for

Take this heart, this
Pound of flesh is, 
fresh this wound is, 
taking me down

Not so sure that
I don’t want this
Sabotage myself in 
catharsis

Home is 
where, 
the heart is

Home is
Where - 
I’m heartless

When we start to
take apart this
apparatus
what we get is

Something ugly
what becomes me
Won’t you fuck me
And forget about me

There’s no turning
back from this point and
What’s the point of 
what’s disjointed?

Broken promises
of words unspoken,
easily enough 
Broken

Home is 
where, 
the heart is

Home is
Where -
I’m heartless

"Heartless"

"This is Not a Test" by Murderwords

Times, 
like these, 
I just wanna be, free
Free from all of these burdens, 
you hoist, upon me

Testing, testing 1,2 - 3
Guitar and vocals in - 
relative harmony

"This is Not a Test"

     " - Alan Kelly presents with complex post-traumatic stress disorder rooted in a difficult childhood, and the emergence of the Murderwords persona that arose during the pandemic marks a profound turning point in his life. Murderwords is more than a mask—he is Alan’s inner child given form, a fierce and raw expression of resilience born from pain. As his therapist, I find this phenomenon both compelling and deeply human: here is a man channeling his trauma into an artistic rebellion against the oppressive forces of the music industry and media censorship. Murderwords is Alan’s way of fighting back, reclaiming control through creativity amid a nervous breakdown. It’s a fragile balance—this shadow work performed in public—but one I am fascinated by and fully invested in helping him navigate. There is power in this persona, and I believe it carries the potential not only for Alan’s survival but for a bold, authentic voice in today’s fractured cultural landscape, though I reserve my concerns that the mask might eat the man if Alan is not careful. This is Doctor Scarlet Ruth, uh, oh nine oh eight of twenty five at... fifteen thirty seven hours. - "

"Dr. Ruth Briefing re: Subject: Alan Kelly / Murderwords 09.08.2025 15:37h"

“Cult?Sure!” by Murderwords

They said, I would, not start, a cult.
The people are, the hardest part.
[but] I took, this sent-iment, to heart,
It couldn’t be, that difficult.
I’ll have to study and consult, 
To build this complex, part-by-part.
This testament, the end result - 
Come join my cult, our mission is -

LOVE!
 - Our mission is - 
LOOOOOOOVEee!!!!!!!... our mission is - 

Making, paper, bag, masks, for the masses.
Writing seminars, lectures and classes.
Composing gospel songs as time passes,
Putting pen to paper, keys to apparatus,
Laying down the scripture, establishing the dogma,
Building a monument to these tumultuous times so -                                                                                Come join my cult, our mission is —
‘LOOOOVVVEEEeee!!!!!....’
 - Our mission is - 

LOVE!
Our mission is - 
LOOOVE!!!


Taking, orders from the government, HR and the unions, this is getting complicated, setting up communion, potluck on a sunny day, Kool-aid, hotdogs, fries and gravy, Murderwords is getting bored, cult is turning all new wavy, only one who I can trust, only Murderwords can save me -  
let's ditch a cult, our mission is - '

LOVE!
- our mission is - 
LOOOOOOOVEee!!!!!!!... our mission is

They said, I would, not start, a cult, now I, must make, a pil-grimage, to seek the wisdom to return and herald the coming new age, Lo my disciples, hearken hither to my final words of Murder, be the bag that you were born to be and remember, 
our mission is - 

LOVE! [The people are, the hardest part]
- our mission is - LOOVE!! [It couldn't be that difficult]
- our mission is - LOOOVE!!! [[but] I took this sentiment to heart]
- our mission is - LOOOOOOOVEee!!!!!!!...  [they said, I would, not start, a cult]

- our mission is - 
LOOOOOOOVEee!!!!!!!...
- our mission is - 
LOOOOOOOVEee!!!!!!!...
- our mission is - 
LOOOOOOOVEee!!!!!!!...
- our mission is - 
LOOOOOOOVEee!!!!!!!...
- our mission is.


"Cult?sure!" rough copy

A little something different, after a hard year fighting censorship, I have some things to say and a big ask of all of YOU, for the sake of us all. Our mission is Love; Join us. 

For the video: https://youtu.be/7-3Y18IAoBw?si=xisFfrl63zfKgx1j

For art. For a future

"GHOST STATE"  A Call to Artists

OK mofos, this been a minute, enjoy laughing at me rap like 3/4 rapper, work in progress

“Murmursermon” by Murderwords 

REFRAIN

I don’ wanna get up out of dis bed, imma stay in my onesie and pretend I’m dead, I should probably look for a job but instead y’all sank the economy into the ground while I wasn’t around, sounds like a youuuuuu - problem, 
poverties’ problems tend to solve themselves, Novelty items on clearance shelves, hard goods no longer needed while we struggling paying for food. -C’mon man, You’re so negative dude - whatever, maybe I wouldn’t be if you would only be so damn kind as to offer me a sedative, all this is relative, we all been born in a helluva time to be on meditative hiatus, ain’t playing - poor mood, wondering what about any of what is happening is good, Baggage made a face on my face and its slowly erasing me,  chasing me down in my dreams and it screams, ‘be-the- bag-that-you-born-to-be, and I will help carry you to your destiny and we will play like we never got to when I was a kid in the days that were meant to be free’ And I see, through eyeholes clearly, that this world is fucking nearly at the end, we can’t pretend we didn’t want it, after all we’ll come to haunt this lost fate, circling the toilet of spoilers around -  loitering on lost ground -   in a - Ghost State - 

REFRAIN

Ghost with the most in a bag of magz, best not lag lad, its gonna get bad before it gets better, ya know how it goes when we’all after that chedda, for better or worse, perverse things, done, down to-the letter and don’t ever forget it, if I were to bet I’d set my wager on the hegemonic dominant minority 1% paying out 10% to police the rest of us to pay the 
rent, while y’all preying on each other with every ism in the great schism, multiculturalism, is where cultures go to die, so-long-as-classism-cur-ates - multi-culturalism, is my criticism - 

if I may interject, meaning no disrespect, but money does some real bad things to the human, meat costumes, and I might say, I’m baffled by their treacherous cosplay when they only hurt themselves for every one of them falls prey to the worst of the lot, first of all, let me tell you, its your faces that attract the attention in the first place, put a Bag mask on it and suddenly you disappear, but you have never really been as here as you have ever appeared, and they look into your eyeholes like they looking at fear, but they misunderstand, they only look in a mirror, and whatever they see there, is whatever they be there - I’m a bag full of promises, find out at the bottom…I’m a nemesis, final boss, knock on my door, end up endure my premises - memesis- socio-politico genesis of a bag full of problems - I promised - Blunt toward empathy, front toward enemy, devoted to entropy, floating all emptily, Ghost State of mind, kinda drift in from the side wind, timed like a surgical strike, dropped form a mic on ya - 

My words are Murder - words, words, words - Murder-
words, words, words, words - Murder - 
words, words, words, words - Murder - 
words, words, words, words - 

You an Error404, not found, four on the floor, look at the ceiling, show you the door, charge you 1% tax and feed you to the poor, ha! - and we just won't talk about you anymore.
[Murder] A big mac attack in a drive thru, milkshake making all the boys in the yard uncomfortable, Field bubble, let’s shake your world up out the rubble and let go of your troubles or double down on your foot in yo mouth, piece of the puzzle - how’s that working out for ya, certainly aim,, to never bore ya, killing it with words of murder, next time you say my rhyme is absurd, guess you never heard around, 
My words are - 

Murder.


"Murmursermon" by Murderwords

"Postlethwaite" By Murderwords

My favourite Murderworder in my neighbourhood, 
ghost state, citizen, Peter Postlethwaite, why all the hate, 
like fuck all y'all, I just rhymed Postlethwaite and I'm debating if your hatin' discourages or just fuels me, amuse me puppets, show me what kind of mules you can be, at least Pete had my back, always underestimated, 
but he gave it his all, In the Name of the Father and for real, 
there is like nobody other, than my boy Postlethwaite, HA, 
first rate lad right out the gate.

"Postlethwaite"

Sneak peak at a work in progress, are YOU a user or are you just USED?... Stay tuned!

"THIS is Why your Everything SUCKS"

Patient Name: Alan Kelly
Alias: “Murderwords”
Clinician: Dr. Scarlett Ruth
Date: 09/08/24
Time: 15:37 PST

This excerpt was my first encounter with a patient named Alan Kelly, whom I took on in 2022, as well as their alter ego persona, one 'Murderwords' who arose in my patient during the mitigation of a nervous breakdown during the events of the global pandemic. Excerpt is audio as follows:

“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, Mr. Words?”
“Please, call me Murderwords.”
“Very well. Tell me about yourself, Murderwords.”

“Okay. Well—

Hi. I am Murderwords, a guy who fell into a paper bag mask one day in a music playing accident involving originality while not maintaining situational awareness around an encroaching technocracy of dystopian malaise. I live on Alan's head. 

I would like to share my music with you, imagine that, in the hopes that you might do all those things we need you to do on platforms to keep me going—the sharing, and the liking, and the signing up.

Please don’t make me say ‘like, share, and subscribe.’

Awww, @&%$!

I am slowly migrating some work over from my low-tech facilities and lower-tech mind into this den of inequity.

If you are an artist or musician who is interested in working with me, please send me a message.

Remember kids:
We are not the product. They are.
And we are not content.”

Alan Kelly presents with complex post-traumatic stress disorder rooted in a difficult childhood, and the emergence of the Murderwords persona that arose during the pandemic marks a profound turning point in his life. Murderwords is more than a mask—he is Alan’s inner child given form, a fierce and raw expression of resilience born from pain.

As his therapist, I find this phenomenon both compelling and deeply human: here is a man channeling his trauma into an artistic rebellion against the oppressive forces of the music industry and media censorship. Murderwords is Alan’s way of fighting back, reclaiming control through creativity amid a nervous breakdown.

It’s a fragile balance—this shadow work performed in public—but one I am fascinated by and fully invested in helping him navigate. There is power in this persona, and I believe it carries the potential not only for Alan’s survival but for a bold, authentic voice in today’s fractured cultural landscape, though I reserve my concerns that the mask might eat the man if Alan is not careful.

This is Doctor Scarlett Ruth,
uh, oh nine oh eight of twenty-five at... fifteen thirty-seven hours.

Murderwords

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