Our hearts beat with static hiss; our veins run with robot piss. We're only hate; analysis. Analysis: we're fucked. Rain down, must plastic, piss and blood pour from above? - PEOPLE GET READY- So many smug faces left to smash, so many private jets left to crash,
and metal fingers can still grasp a multiplicity of munitions. The devil has a name, a face, a family, friends and a parking space. Circuit theory states the case that blood must drain from Brentwood. Rain down, must plastic, piss and blood pour from above? -PEOPLE GET READY-
Insane animal you have been captured, you do not even realize, that you have been trapped and your leg, it is bleeding badly and you may die from your wounds if you do not get attention soon. You got a feeling? Yeah, we got a feeling! Do you hear the sound of thunder?
And should blood happen to need to spill from family, friends, those in the middle, for the record, we are sorry. But when the supper clean Von Bron machine brings human blood to boil. We'll ignite the scene with kerosene and a 1/3 part motor oil.