this is how it ended in tokyo. buildings rebuilt and billed to anyone dumb enough to be standing there. thanksgiving day. tossing eating wearing pigskin worn thin. torn teethly like the scaredy cat sacred custom goes. sweet chicken little eating lolli pox treats for turkey day. it's salmonella city. where we're worn thin. ordered to work in working order. bashful red shame and bold blue bruising whitey. hiding in houses looking like aching smiling faces. an oh, the comfortable forts we used to build with cushions and blankets. matching a patched up pair like us, apparently it's a given, given culture and all, we will break things just to call them broken. stained by this compulsion to ruin and name it art.

GOD damn this is something straight out of the dark crevasses of Stephen King's aged leathery skin

Du.

Du Hast.

Du Hast Mich.

Eh, those lyrics aren't that edgy.

Quote from: Mmmmm Napalm on March 24, 2016, 12:00:41 AM

Quote from: Decimator Omega on March 23, 2016, 08:05:06 PM

Du.

Du Hast.

Du Hast Mich.

Eh, those lyrics aren't that edgy.

Ich tu' dir weh.
Tut mir nicht Leid!
Das tut dir gut.
Hör wie es schreit!

OK, now that song is.