     " - 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

"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"

“Tool = Weapon” By Murderwords

...Nothing.
Anything, Everything;
- Something.

- Keeps on distracting, 
not exactly sure, 
Of so much of - 

…Nothing. 
Anything, Everything;
- Something. 

- Keeps on distracting, 
Not exactly sure, 
Of so much of - 

…Nothing. 
Anything, Everything;
- Something. 

- Keeps on distracting, 
Not exactly sure, 
Of so much of - 

- Of so much of - Not exactly sure - 
- Of so much of - Keeps on distracting - 
- Not exactly sure - Of so much of - …

Bridge: - Of so much… Something.

Something. 
Something. 
Keeps on distracting,
Not exactly sure, of so much of - …


...Nothing.
Anything, Everything;
- Something.

- Keeps on distracting, 
not exactly sure, 
Of so much of - 

…Nothing. 
Anything, Everything;
- Something. 

- Keeps on distracting, 
Not exactly sure, 
Of so much of - 

Nothing…  of so much of.
Anything… keeps on distracting.
Everything… not exactly sure, of so much of
- Something.

- Keeps on distracting, 
Not exactly sure, 
Of so much of - 

- Of so much of - Not exactly sure - 
- Of so much of - Keeps on distracting - 
- Not exactly sure - Of so much of - …

… - Of so much of - … - Something.

Something.
Something.

Nothing.





"TOOL=WEAPON"

"Sustain"

“Of Love” By Murderwords

Love does not love
Love does not dare
Love does not suffer so
Love does not care

Love has an end
Love is not for everyone
Love is not a godsend
Love won’t favour anyone

Love didn’t make me try again
Love couldn’t save me from myself
Love wouldn’t intercede on behalf of
Love that shouldn’t lie again

So why love, when push comes to shove 
Love is a game of below as above, 
What has love done to 
the world we are living in
Taking more than giving in, 
begrudging more than forgiving in? 

Love has confused me
Love has abused me
Love has perused me, 
Hell, Love has used me

Love will not leave me alone
Love breaks all hearts and cuts to bone
Love bleeds not for your needs of 
Love that does not heed the need to be alone

Love don’t lose
Love don’t share
Love don’t choose
Love is not aware

So why love, when push comes to shove 
Love is a game of below as above, 
What has love done to the world we are living in, taking more than giving in, 
begrudging more than forgiving in? 
Why love won’t just leave me be, to tend my wounds in misery, I got from love that cannot see that, Love, has only, made a, mess of, me


"Of Love"



“Spun” by Murderwords	

‘We come, out of nothingness, scattering stars like dust’ - Rumi

V1	When you’re down and out
In a shadow of a doubt sometimes
There are no rhymes nor reasons
Treasonous seasons from time to time
When it's spinning out 
              	Of control, parts of a whole fall apart
              	Where so far from a center off 
              	It's so hard to look back upon the start

IN          	Sometimes 
It all seems part of some grand design
             	In time
              	Of these dreams, we all search for the signs
              	Sometimes
              	Whatever may come may come from inside
              	In time
              	We might learn to read between the lines

V2	Vulnerability
Weakness and fragility
Yet for every ounce of strength
brought to bear
To avoid what we’re afraid to see	
     	If I reach out to you
	And you reach out to me, 
	When contact is made in between 
	the space that we must face to be

IN          	Sometimes 
It all seems part of some grand design
             	In time
              	Of these dreams, we all search for the signs
              	Sometimes
              	Whatever may come may come from inside
              	In time
              	We might learn to read between the lines

CH	All, spun out—
no time, runs out
No space, is closing in—
no rhyme, no reason
All, strung out—
entangled in-a- 
shad-ow-of a, doubt
Enter the center,
or fall, spun out

No rhyme, no reason!
	
BR	Instrumental Break… When it's spinning 
out, of control, parts of a whole fall apart
No rhyme, no reason… x4

V3	As I spin in doubt, scattering those caught 
within this down and out.
As I push you away into distance,
But draw you all into my turning ‘round - 
- Burning out.
Gravity, 
geometry, and entropy—
Whatever may come,
May come to pass— Away, and yet 
through you, the heart of me.

IN
	
CH	        Sometimes 
                It all seems part of some grand design
             	In time
              	Of these dreams, we all search for the signs
              	Sometimes
              	Whatever may come may come from inside
              	In time
              	We might learn to read between the lines

	        No rhyme, no reason!

V1/OUTRO




"SPUN"

''Ghost State'' By Murderwords 

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 -  I murder words in a - Ghost State - 

-words,words,Murder, words,words, words - I Murderwords in a ghost state-words,words, Murder, words, words, words,words

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 - 

words, words, words, words - Murder-
words, words, words, - I Murderwords in a ghost state
words, words - Murder - 
words, words, words, words - Murder - 

You an Error 404, file 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 the town;
My words are - 

Murder.

''Ghost State'' (Freestyle Awfulness)

“As it Draws Near” By Murderwords

This is fine,
a place to stop as any
End of the line; Across empty space
and miles a plenty

As it draws near,
nothing to fear,
but fear itself

In silence to hear
Echoes after all, and
Yet something else

This is fine,
a place to stop as any
End of the line; Across empty space
and miles a plenty

As it draws near,
nothing to fear,
but fear itself

In silence to hear
Echoes after all, and
Yet something else

This is…

This is fine, 
a place to stop as any
End of the line; Across empty space
and miles a plenty

Instrumental Break

…THIS IS FINE!!!

As it draws near,
nothing to fear,
but fear itself

In silence to hear!
Echoes after all, and
Yet something else

Nothing to fear,
but fear itself

In silence to hear!
Echoes after all, and
Yet something else

This is fine.

As it Draws Near

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.

This track is not available anymore.

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