"i can sense there's something in the wind,
that feel like tragedy's at hand"
i don't trust him...
it isn't mine...
it isn't even real...

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Small, simple safe price
Rise to the wake and carry me with all of my regrets
This is not a small cut that scabs and dries and flakes and heals
And I'm not afraid to die
I'm not afraid to bleed and fuck and fight
I want the pain of payment

What's left but a section of pigmie size cuts? Much like the slew of a thousand unwanted fucks
Would you be my ( Read more... )