Reflecting on what's been. Though past will be future. When again yesterday to be made For me, hazy times fume all around. Burning grass in a field of endless supplies. Tall people casting shadows
My angel, clipped wings I know. Wonders in darkness on grimy ground. In a forest unclean, unsound. Everything, everything's gone wild Make land for the cows to graze. Leaflets scattered around. T
Reflecting on what's been. Though past will be future. When again yesterday to be made For me, hazy times fume all around. Burning grass in a field of endless supplies. Tall people casting shadows
If I had a hatchet it would be yours to have. 'Cause your decapitating habits feel a little bit orgasmic. If I had a hatchet it would be yours to have. I kind of like the feeling when you stab me i
Progress is methodic, meaning step by step. Too much, too long, too many minds have slept. As the world grows gray, throw away mass produce. What are we to do now all hell has broken loose? The noo
Who the *. Who the * is anything. You wore me down. Mentally. Gonna wear you down. Physically. Amputate your soul. There's a picture in my mouth. . Quietly *. Quietly gone. Quietly *. Quie
