8 acessos
frantic: blood and sweat did you forget? its our madness black: whats
left when we rape the white from the wedding guilty: is my verdict
beauty: makes me nauseous abandon ship: we all deserve to drown we are the
fallen angels its not a test... its lies.. a bombast of sentiment, a
listless auction like a ballad of deprivation and my dead end poetry... is
this love dying? yes, this is dying love... we slit our own throats