#tma tickle

[tk-fandom-stuff]

Here's a sneak peek of the fic im writing for yall to chew on while you wait :]

[amazingmsme]

Best Served Cold

AN: it shouldn’t really come as any surprise that I’m a Tim Stoker stan & that man needs to get knocked down a few pegs. The role reversal prompt was perfect for them, cause sometimes the tickle monster just needs a taste of his own medicine! Without further ado, here’s day 22’s fic!

Martin was on his way back down to the archives, a fresh cup of tea in hand. He was halfway back from the break room when a loud shriek echoed down the stone halls followed by shrill, frantic giggles. He smiled to himself, rolling his eyes fondly. It seems Sasha fell prey to Tim's antics once more.

Oh well, better her than him.

He walked down the rest of the stairs and around the corner, her laughter growing louder the closer he got closer. Sure enough, Tim had cornered her between the wall and a filing cabinet, giggling herself silly. She looked adorable like this, Martin had to admit, but he sympathized with her plight. He wasn't sure which of them he attacked more frequently...

A rare smirk settled on his face. Perhaps a bit of revenge was in order.

He crept up behind Tim as quietly as he could, but he was too preoccupied with the task at hand to notice anyway. He slowly raised his arms, a predator about to strike.

"Just one more piece! Come on, don't be stingYYYY! Hehehey whahat the hehehell?" His sly bargaining was interrupted by a shocked squeal that quickly gave way to confused laughter.

"What's the matter Tim? I thought you just loved tickling, seeing as you do it to us so much," Martin pointed out, surprisingly bold and teasing with his words, but a rare bout of mischief had taken root, and he was determined to put their resident trouble maker in his place. Sasha barked out a laugh at his words as she recovered, enjoying her front row seat to the show.

"Thahat's not- nohoho don't!" he pivoted mid sentence when Martin's hands scribbled down to his hips.

"I mean, it's only fair to return the favor, don't you think Sasha?" he asked innocently, continuing to hold Tim on his tickly hug. She made a miraculously quick recovery upon hearing those words, already wiggling her fingers at her previous tormentor.

"Oh I couldn't agree more! He's been extra annoying lately, maybe he was just waiting, begging for one of us to just snap," she finally struck, diving right for his belly. He immediately doubled over, bursting out into bright, bubbly giggles.

"I wahahas nohohot!" he denied, twisting in Martin's hold and trying to hold Sasha's hands away. A few quick pinches up his ribs reminded Tim that he was still very much a problem. He arched away with a shriek when he found a spot between his sixth and seventh rib that seemed worse than the rest.

“Noho, please! Nohohot thehehere!” his pleading went ignored as they continued to seek out the best spots.

“Alright then, how about here instead?” Martin asked as he plunged his hands beneath his arms to scribble at the center of his hollows.

“Ahahabsolutely nohohot!” he cried out through his laughter. He snorted and shook his head back and forth when Sasha reached up to flutter her nails along his neck, scribbling at the spot just behind his ears.

“NOHOHO! Ihihi hahate you bohohoth!” he whined through growing hysterics. But it was all for show. Being trapped in a tickle sandwich between your best friends wasn’t ideal, but it he’d choose that over filing any day.

“Awww, we love you too!” she cooed in a false honey sweet tone.

“N-nohot whahahat I said!” he choked out, trying to hide the blush quickly spreading across his cheeks.

“I know, but you forget I happen to be fluent in Tim Stoker sass,” she teased, scratching underneath his chin just to make him squeal.

“Ohoho fuck you!” he hissed through clenched teeth before another snort ripped free from his chest. He gave up on the useless endeavor of fighting back, instead focusing all his efforts on hiding his face.

“Aw, why are you hiding? There’s no need to be so embarrassed Tim!” Martin teased fondly, but he really meant what he said.

“Exactly! So stop hiding, and let me see that handsome smile,” Sasha taunted as she gently pulled his arms away from his face. His blush darkened and he immediately ducked his head to look away.

“Nohoho!”

“No? Well that’s a bit rude, innit?” she asked with a laugh of her own. She went back to poking around his tummy, drawing out jumpy, nervous giggles.

“This ihihis rude!” he argued, and they both gasped.

“What? We’re just sharing the love!” Sasha justified.

“And I’m simply returning the favor!” Martin added. An amused chuckle from behind made them all stop in their tracks as they turned to see Jon browsing a nearby cluttered desk.

“No need to stop on my account, I just needed to grab a few things,” he explained, eyes scanning the surface until he apparently found what he needed.

“Please, carry on. And don’t forget to go for his knees,” he advised with a teasing smirk, going as far as to wink at the crew. He was about to leave, when Martin’s voice called out and gave him pause.

“Or you could do it yourself.” And wasn’t that an enticing thought.

“I’m afraid I’m swamped,” he excused himself with a little shrug.

“Sounds like you could use a break then. And we have the perfect stress ball for you to try out,” Sasha insisted.

He stared at the three of them, all with varying degrees of a smile on their face. And they looked so hopeful, even Tim, that he just couldn’t refuse.

He sighed, setting down the file before cracking his knuckles, flashing a rare, mischievous smile.

They all could use a good laugh.

[bingsucks]

thinking about an alternate universe where in TMA whenever Trevor Herbert and Julia Montauk show up, instead of the ominous swell of static it's just team rocket music

[littengamer909]

Failtopia TMA Entities

I've had The Magnus Archives on the brain for a while now (im only at episode 152 please no spoilers), but I've been thinking, and here's the Fears that I would assign to Failtopia characters, plus a few explanations and thoughts! I don't have all of them, so if you think of some, please let me know!

C!Fail: The Web. c'mon. you saw this coming. he's the Puppet Of The Universe guy. of course he serves the Mother of Puppets. Alternatively, he could be marked by the Lonely.

Erica: The Slaughter. I support women's wrongs

Simple Bob: The Hunt. demon hunting, you know

Bo: The Lonely. It's mostly vibes here, but I think it fits!

Rose: The Corruption. I was thinking the Vast for the space vibes, but thematically, the one that has unhealthy love and relationships in its domain probably makes more sense.

Chi: The Spiral. I was thinking of the Desolation because, you know, fire, but she's more into the good aspects of fire and the Desolation is all about the bad parts. Also, the Spiral works well with all the absolute insanity she has going on.

Friend: The Stranger. Granted, I'm playing off my own headcanons here, but I think that the identity aspect of it works just as well as the shapeshifting parts. The religious aspect does make me think of the Dark, but nothing else about it really works, so... yeah. The Web could also work for them, though!

Chat: The Spiral. I shouldn't have to explain this one

Big Bill: The Flesh. Jared Hopworth (Flesh avatar) is canonically jacked and I think that's all you need to know.

That's all I have for now, but I will make another post if I think of any more!

[tickled-2-death]

I saw your post about tma tickle requests and I have literally never thought about lonelyeyes tickles, but now I need to see Elias brought down a peg or six by his ex-ex-ex husband(soon to add another ex) who's probably at least semi-transparent and covered in fog. Bonus points for all the sass!

Attitude Adjustment

Content warnings: unhealthy relationship, dubious consent(?), tickle torture, begging, feet content specifically, not necessarily sexual but sexual acts are mentioned.

This is a tickle fic.

“Peter, I have told you this several times before, and I will only repeat myself this once. I am not going anywhere near that pathetic boat.”

Elias just can’t seem to catch a fucking break today. First it was some shipment issue at the Archives, namely involving those two identical circus freaks with some mysterious box. Then, once they finally convinced him to sign off on it (he’ll just replace whoever dies in artifact storage, no big deal), there was some petty little catfight in the archives itself. One that he, despite all the paperwork that needed to be sorted, had to go downstairs and tell Jonathan off about. That’s not to mention that his coffee was cold by the time he got back, and-

“Darling, my love, my light. You’re thinking too hard.”

… and his husband, one Mr. Peter “just fuck off out to sea and forget it all” Lukas, simply will not shut up.

Elias pinches the bridge of his nose, propped up in their lavish bed in his silk pajamas, by all means in a position to relax that he intends not to spoil.

“I can’t stand the smell”, he begins to explain, “I cant stand the Lonely, and honestly the thought of being trapped on a giant metal hunk of rubbish with you for several months on end makes me want to disappear already.”

Peter, despite his patron and what you’d expect as a result of it, nearly never stops smiling. It’s a smug little shit sort of smile, mind you, but it hardly ever leaves his face. As of now, it droops into a frown.

“Elias, if we’re going to beat our record of staying married for four months-“

“Five months. Five months is the record.”

The captain sighs.

“If we’re going to make this work for more than five months, we’ve got to accept one another’s help! I’m just trying to think of a way to cheer you up, to get some of that tension out of you, in the only way I know how!”

Elias considers this, and ultimately decides that his husband is right. He’s a snarky bastard, even worse than Elias himself at times, but he’s trying to do the right thing. It’s the thought that counts? Right???

It doesn’t really matter. 200 years and counting, and he’s never been interested in admitting his own faults. Why start now? Especially for Peter goddamn Lukas.

So the shrewish little Beholder pulls out his bitchiest of bitch voices, and simply replies; “Well, you’d hardly like it if I recommended you to take someone’s statement, or delve into someone’s personal life for an ounce of fear, now would you?”, before rolling over and turning off his bedside lamp.

Something within Peter snaps just then. Not genuine anger, or at least not the violent sort. No, it’s simply the sudden and undeniable urge to teach someone a lesson. Elias’ eyes go wide, having Known what was about to happen, but it’s too late.

Peter roughly digs his fingers into his husband’s ribs, and vibrates them between the bones with all his might.

“OH FUCK-“ is all the poor, helpless man can manage before descending into mad cackles against his will. His dignity would never allow such a boisterous display of emotion, but there’s hardly a chance to suppress it in this position.

Instinctively, he rolls onto his stomach to escape the horrific sensation at his side. However, this proves to be the worst thing he could’ve possibly done, because Peter takes the opportunity to straddle his ass and get both sides at once.

“PEHEHETER! YOU- STOHAHAP THIS AT OHAHANCE! NOW!” Elias demands through several squeals, drumming his bare feet against the mattress behind them. Hands desperately grabbing for purchase or perhaps Peter’s dastardly wrists.

He doesn’t let up, of course, and that smile is back with a vengeance.

“Hmm- what was that kinky sex term you told me about? Where you punish someone for talking back?” Peter asks, tone jovial and unclear as to whether the question is genuine or rhetorical.

Elias, in turn, accidentally projects the answer into his mind. Mouth otherwise occupied with screams of ticklish agony.

“Brat taming, that’s right! Are you going to stop being a brat, Elias? Or is your significantly larger, stronger husband going to have to tickle you until you cry? We both know I’m well trained in regards to tying knots, so you’d better keep that in mind.”

Deciding to give the ribs a bit of a break, lest he accidentally bruise them, Peter jams his fingers into Elias’ sensitive underarms. It’s absolutely delightful, the way he screams even louder and clamps his arms to his sides. As if that will help, now that the offending digits are trapped exactly where they shouldn’t be.

“NOW! YOUHOHOHOL STOP RIHIGHT NOW! I DEHEHEE- DEMAHAHAND IT!!!” Elias tries to compel, but the concentration required to do so simply isn’t there.

Peter continues to burrow his fingertips into Elias’ armpits, wiggling and scritching across the ultra sensitive skin like worms trying to dig into the earth. He flails as much as humanly possible, twisting and snorting up a storm all the while, but Peter’s legs hold firm to his hips. He’s stuck, and completely at the other avatar’s mercy.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to keep on like this, love. That is, until you apologize, and whatever comes out of your mouth even now can and will be held against you. So let’s fix that attitude, yeah?”

Elias’ laugh goes silent, eyes screwed shut rendering his powers completely useless. Not that they weren’t already, but now he can’t even read Peter’s thoughts.

Mercifully, the tickling comes to a stop after about five straight minutes of torture. Elias takes the opportunity to breath, and to pout, while Peter continues to ramble on.

“Not going to say anything, then? That’s alright, I’ve got another place in mind. Remember that one time you asked for a foot massage, and every time I pressed too light you’d kick and tell me to do better? Well, if you can’t handle a massage I’d hate to see how you’ll handle ten fingers intentionally tickling you.”

Elias uses what little of his strength he’s got left to buck his hips. Nothing happens, so he begins to thrash any way he can, kicking and babbling out a mantra of “nononono”-

But Peter is quick, and built tough like the boat that stared this whole argument. It takes about two seconds for him to turn around, placing all his weight on the trapped ankles of his smart-mouthed partner. He cracks his knuckles, gives a quick wink in Elias’ direction, and scribbles his fingers up two shaking soles.

Elias cries out, pounding his fists against the mattress. “NNOOHOHO! PETERPETERPETER- GEHEET OOHOFF- I CAHANT!”

“Are you pleading with me?” He responds, otherwise uncaring and unwavering in his assault. He wiggles his nails against the soles of one foot, and digs in between the toes of the other.

Even now, there is the slightest hesitation. But when he adjusts his position so that he can rub his beard against Elias’ trapped feet, all remaining pride goes out the window and into the endless Vast.

“PLEHEHASEPLEASEPLEASE- SOHAHA- SORRY! DAHARLINGPLEASE-“

“Trying to appeal to my humanity, darling? I should be offended you’d use such language just to get away from me and my glorious facial hair”.

Tears stream down Elias’ face. The scruffy hairs rubbing against his soles is just too much to handle. So he does the unthinkable and gives up.

“PEHEHEETEERRRR-“ is all he can manage, all he can think in the midst of this hell, and somehow it’s enough for him to get the message.

“Alright, alright. Calm down, love, let me help.” Peter soothes, giggling at the little twitches he evokes by firmly rubbing Elias’ feet of residual tingles.

Elias, on the other hand, is utterly spent. He feels heavy as a sack of bricks, completely limp and hiccuping like a maniac. Once his awful, evil husband has decided that his feet can be left alone, he starts to rub his back.

“Poor, mean little thing you are. So sensitive for such a powerful man.” Peter coos, and despite himself Elias falls asleep to the sound of his voice and comforting feel of his hands.

[missholloween]

tell me about crossnamera. To be honest, they’ve never really clicked with me but the fic I’m planning has them be together and I wanna do it well.

Okay, so this will probably be long.

For me, one of the things that make me love crossnamara is about the trust they had with each other.

We don't know much about their relationship pre-portal: Wilbur was MacNamara's mentor, he taught Macnamara all about the creatures he would later leave him to serve. By the way they speak about the other, they might've spent a lot of time together, working on different missions, getting to know the other. Maybe they shared some drinks, maybe they shared some secrets that no one else could understand. After all, not everyone would believe them if they talked about the paranormal, the extraterrestrial or the interdimensional.

Moreover, they might have had other secrets they shared. On one hand, MacNamara is confirmed to be queer by the Langs. On the other, Wilbur reads as the same type of antagonist as Owen, that is, a queer villain (I hc there's something funky going on with his gender too, but that's for another day). By being two queer men working for the government in the early 2000s, they could not only see someone like them (as people wouldn't be as out as they are today), but also they could see someone like them in a field not made for them. They'd have another person to go to.

However, what makes their relationship so interesting to me is how, even if there is/was a deep bond between them, their convictions are greater than any of their feelings. Wilbur will always turn to the Lords in Black, as he believes they'll liberate him and humanity. On the other hand, even if John once loved the person that called himself Wilbur Cross, he'd never let the world die for him. Their love is very important, but, when the chips are down, it won't make much of a difference. Maybe their conversations will be softer, maybe they'll kill the other in a fastest way than they'd do with others, but facing their former partner won't make them stop.

Although during their face-downs they will do what they have to do, I also think they are haunting presences in the other's life. MacNamara sees Wilbur in new cadets and old threats, remembering the person he knew before the portal. Wilbur remembers the man he once trained when he tricks younger folks to enter a world too big for them. It's about absences, and what might be built on them (I also love the headcanon that Wilbur and John switched tags before the portal incident and they've kept them).

TL;DR them..... I need the Langs to give us more info about what happened in 2005, because there's so much (angst) potential.

[clown-eating-pig]

melanie's blue hair just being a commonly accepted trait fandom-wide is sooooo funny to me. I want to know who the first blue-haired melanie truther was.

[tk-fandom-stuff]

Rn im thinking abt Mike crew being ticklish he's so silly and like scars tend to be more sensitive and I'm imagining he has The Cutest giggles when his scar get lightly traced and he just melts into a puddle basically pls imagine this with me

[stray-tickles]

HI. HELLO. I HAVE A QUESTION. DO YOU STILL WRITE FOR THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES. AND A FOLLOW UP QUESTION. HAVE YOU LISTENED TO PROTOCOL YET. AND A FOLLOW UP QUESTION. LEE!ALICE? I DON’T KNOW I FEEL LIKE I’M GOING INSANE.

Hi anon!

I haven't been writing much the last 18 months unfortunately! I've been having some medical issues with fatigue, and my work's been busy, which hasn't given me much energy to write :(

I have listened to protocol and you are so right, Alice is such a shit, someone needs to get her.

[amazingmsme]

Like Magic

AN: So this is a bit of a different spin on the prompt, but anything to write more TMA! Idk how the rest of this month is shaping out to look like for me, but I’m gonna try to finish things. Please be patient as I try to finish these fics. Here’s my fic for day 18!

Martin rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time as Tim droned on about how such great friends he apparently was with one Jonathan Sims. Of course he wasn't buying any of it. But that didn't mean he wouldn't play along.

"Wow, ya don't say?" Martin said breathily, sarcasm still evident.

"Yup! He even said so himself!" Tim proudly proclaimed. Martin raised his brows in shock.

"He said that you are the funniest one here?" he asked skeptically. Tim scoffed.

"Why'd you say that like it's hard to believe?"

Martin shrugged. "B-because it is! I mean, it's Jon we're talking about. Does... does he even have a sense of humor?"

Tim shook his head with an amused chuckle. "Oh Martin, always so naive. Everyone has a sense of humor if you know what tickles their funny bone," he winked, nudging him with his elbow.

"Yeah but, he just doesn't seem like the giddy type," he reasoned.

"Well, you just don't know Jon like I do. What can I say? We have an unspoken bond between us. I can make him crack up with a single look," he boasted, and that was where Martin called it.

"Oh you can not!"

"Wanna bet?" he asked with a crooked grin, wiggling his eyebrows at him. Martin opened his mouth but abruptly snapped it shut when Jon walked into the break room. Tim also shut up, hands shoved in his pockets. Jon looked between them and snorted, walking to the counter.

"If you're going to talk behind my back, I suggest making it less apparent," he casually teased.

"N-no, it's nothing like that!" Martin assured him.

"I was just telling Martin what great friends we are!"

"Hm, that's news to me." Jon barely hid his smirk  at the way Tim cried out indignantly.

"Ouch. I'm hurt Jon. You hurt me," he said, pointing an accusing finger. Jon grinned smugly, turning back to the kettle. He poured himself a cup as Tim walked back to the couch, flopping down next to Martin with a pout. Martin looked about as smug as Jon.

"What?" he snapped.

"You're so full of it," he said softly, an amused smile firmly in place. Tim shoved his shoulder.

"Oh sod off! You know, that last part was actually true," he said, and something in his voice seemed genuine enough for Martin to feel inclined to believe him.

"Really?" he asked, casting a quick glance Jon's direction. Tim followed it, nodding.

“Oh yeah. It’s a little magic power of mine,” he bragged, wiggling his fingers in a twinkly magic kind of way. Martin snorted in amusement.

“Magic, okay, sure,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh you don’t believe me? Here, I’ll prove it,” he said matter of factly. He hopped to his feet, sauntering over to the counter next to Jon. He looked over his shoulder at Martin, smug smirk already in place. He turned his attention to Jon, leaning his hip against the countertop.

“So how’s your day been so far?” he asked casually. Jon snorted.

“The same as every other damn day, what do you think?” When he looked up from adding the smallest amount of sugar to his tea, he froze like a deer in headlights.

Tim was giving him The Look. The one he always gave him before he pounced and turned him into a hysterical mess. His eyes were glowing with mischievous intent, deviously smug smirk peaking out from behind his mustache. Jon took a step back, a nervous grin already tugging at his lips. He glanced over at Martin- oh God, he was going to do it in front of Martin! He looked at Tim with wide eyes, shaking his head. His smile stretched ear to ear and quite literally lit up the room. Martin stared on in shock, a faint blush dusting his cheeks at the sight of their boss looking so adorable.

“Tim-“ Jon started, hoping to negotiate his way out of this.

“You sure it’s just another boring day?” he asked, cutting him off. When he wiggled his eyebrows at him, Jon giggled, actually giggled, bumping into the corner of the fridge when he backed up further.

“Tim I swear-“

“What? I’m just asking about your day. You seem to be rather chipper, thought I’d see what that’s all about,” he teased further. Jon was starting to visibly flush, and he was at a loss for words.

“Oh you bastard,” he huffed, turning away. Tim stepped in front of him.

“Where did this hostility come from? I think someone ought to teach you some manners,” he said, winking at him. Jon felt his blood run cold.

He turned to run, but Tim hooked an arm around his waist, immediately digging his fingers in his sides. Jon doubled over, choking back laughter that still forced its way out through quick bursts of giggles, snorts, and uncharacteristic shrieks. Martin was in awe.

But he couldn’t let himself look or act as lovestruck as he felt, so he just sat there in shock.

“Tihihim! Wha- whahahat dihid I dohoho?” he asked through an onslaught of helpless snickers. Tim brought his other hand into the fray, kneading his sides like a cat making biscuits. Jon snorted, knees buckling when devious hands made contact with his ribs. Those torturous fingers prodded every space between the bones, leaving him sputtering through laughter.

“Oh nothing, nothing at all. You just looked like an easy target,” he reasoned and Jon whined. He found the uppermost ribs and Jon arched his back with a giggly squeal.

Tim only kept at it for a while longer before he released him. He gave Jon a pat on the back as he caught his breath. Tim looked over at Martin and flashed a wide, cocky grin.

“See, what’d I tell ya? Magic,” he said with a grand flourish, making Martin snort in amusement. And if he noticed the way Jon was slowly creeping up behind Tim, fingers flexed and ready to strike, well, he didn’t say anything.

Where would be the fun in that?

[sisislair]

Can tell I'm procrastinating when I start doing shit like organizing my entire Magnus Archives Playlist on YouTube into chronological order lol.

[squirrelthing85]

I am all for being corruptionpilled jane prentiss kin or whatever in Theory (being consumed by what loves me) but my ass? Could Not handle the bugs. Maybe I’m a poser. but I’m sorry my love. Creepy Crawlies in my House and Home? I shudder at the thought

[elias-magnusnt]

WOE. FIFTY THOUSAND BEES IN YOUR WALLS

That is entirely too many bees. I'm glad I kept some bug spray around? Nasty little critters

[lostinflorentine]

Imagine being Peter Lukas and you are obliterated from existence by a sock puppet that doesn't even come up to your shins. Absolutely embarrassing.

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

i want to say this because it left me in stitches

i felt the sort of need to write, didn't feel like writing for my original thing, and i want to rethink the plot/lore of the fic so it's less based on stranger things. the attachment to it completely kills it for me. i got into the magnus archives because i was hoping to find the right inspiration, currently hoping i find other good horror. anyway, not important beyond my feeling of having to update on this

and i dug deep into google docs wondering if there were any things i wrote or started writing that could help

i, apparently, had this isbs drabble doc? that was entirely ideas for writing. i wrote a little on one, but it's too weak on the ground and i never finished it

one of the ideas involved the premise that yuki is calm, and ergo capable of mediating. like, he ends up allying with hyunwoo and isol because i liked those three as a group, still do albeit differently. and he'd help make them fight less

i'm gonna be real with you

i don't think i understood yuki back then at all

[tma-entity-song-poll]

Battle of the Fear Bands B3R2: The Flesh

Blow My Brains Out:

""Sometimes I wish I could take a new shape, switch out some parts and become a big A" Me too bestie."

The Dismemberment Song:

“It has everything, the casual treatment of people’s bodies as objects for a goal, trying to almost sound sweet while chopping someone to bits, the fact that what will be left is unrecognizable, the turning the knife on someone else as opposed to yourself. It’s just very flesh.”

Lyrics below the line!

Blow My Brains Out:

Sometimes I wish I could lend you my eyes Lend you my hips and lend you my thighs Sometimes I wish I could take a new shape Switch out some parts and become a big A Sometimes I wish I could lend you my ears Lend you my thoughts and lend you my tears Sometimes I wish I could take a new form Switch out some parts and become like the norm Lucky is she, who lives unaware Who doesn't get bothered by those who don't care Lucky is she, who lives unaware Who doesn't get bothered by all that's unfair Unlucky me, who knows way too much Who fights to make changes and music and such Unlucky me, aware of the pain All 'cause I happen to have some brain Sometimes I wish I could lend you my voice Lend you my heart and lend you my choice Sometimes I hope for a savior to come Who's got what it takes to convince everyone Sometimes I wish I could lend you my shoes Lend you my life and lend you my truth But sometimes the truth is just my point of view Not what is real and not what is true Lucky is she, who lives unaware Who doesn't get bothered by those who don't care Lucky is she, who lives unaware Who doesn't get bothered by all that's unfair Unlucky me, who knows way too much Who fights to make changes and music and such Unlucky me, aware of the pain All 'cause I happen to have some brain Lucky is she, who lives unaware Lucky is she, who lives unaware Unlucky me, who knows way too much Who fights to make changes and music and such Unlucky me, aware of the pain All 'cause I happen to have some brain

The Dismemberment Song:

Hold still, my sweet I'm trying to measure the space between Your molar and your jaw This caliper No cause for fear, no, it, it doesn't hurt It only helps me measure How much skin you have Oh, and the topmost layer of fat But I won't make an incision 'Til you're nice and numb Oh, and laughing gas can be so much fun Please don't doubt my decision This'll be, ooh, this'll be, aah This'll be absolutely, whee This'll be nice, this'll be neat And bring you closer to me So, don't you squirm, don't you fret I'm not gonna hurt you yet I just feel the need to be getting A little of you, a lot of blood-letting I know the sensation you're probably dreading But cutting you up will be so refreshing for me Refreshing for me, yeah No, don't you cry And don't call Miriam, she's my alibi Oh, let me check your toes out Aren't your toenails cute? And red is such a lovely color on you But you won't be needing those When you've got no knees Or shins, or pinky fingers, or arteries So, hold still while I remove them Oh, and don't fight back I think you'll find you're missing the point with that That's enough out of you And this'll be, ooh, this'll be, aah This'll be absolutely, whee This'll be nice, this'll be neat And bring you closer to me So, don't you squirm, don't you fret I'm not gonna hurt you yet I just feel the need to be getting A little of you, a lot of blood-letting I know the sensation you're probably dreading But cutting you up will be so refreshing for me, yeah Refreshing for me, yeah Well, once upon a time, that's where the plot begins And right after the end, well, that's where the plot thins, and I've got no angel to keep me in line So, I'm taking your narrative, and I'm making it mine 'Cause I'm all out of hurt, you've used up all I've got So, I'm chopping you up and still coming up squat If I wanted to bleed, I'd just roll up my sleeve And saw, and saw, and saw And saw, and saw, and saw And saw, and saw, and saw Oh, yeah This'll be, ooh, this'll be, aah This'll be absolutely, whee This'll be nice, this'll be neat And bring you closer to me So, don't you squirm, don't you fret I'm not gonna hurt you No, no, no, not yet I just feel the need to be getting A little of you, a lot of blood-letting I know the sensation you're probably dreading But there's one thing you're forgetting There's nothing like the thrill of a shredding And this is no orthodox beheading And cutting you up Cutting you up Cutting you up is gonna be so refreshing for me Refreshing for me, yeah Refreshing for meOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh