RegalSin wrote:To the ones embalmed for science and the grave !
The singnal is the radiation. Cancer...
Blossums in feburay and migrates furrying spring
They would make us march to the bomb-shelter, or even hide under our desks.
Then your going to be like a hunched over failure, the rest of life
Olga's child will die
Don't tell him a thing
He will come crying and screaming
Half for him, half for her, half for everybody
Where the hell is the meat!?
