right hand raised. The plant label to the left - the collection, the bias for the '. A selection of colors, tastes, political groups, who see only the red. He wants them dead. He kills her in his mirror when it is dark ... And if he thinks no one sees the spray paint and leaves its mark on the spreads. swastika scream from the walls are tattooed fists in a million. Close together, certainly in numbers ... Waving from the abyss. Food! Plod on the icy road ... A cannon is waiting for the food.The light comes with a bang. A bang. A bang bang bang ... Another place. Another story. Finger play with cigars obsolete. Current affairs, the field is missing, the president has sold cars for his daughter. Read charts and sharpening knives for cutting, when the time seems right - only for him. No rest for pity, when the victim out of sight. Parity is swinging to shout a word for Cranks with truncheons. And 'good in theory ... he knows that it was not for him. He got his food! In higherPlaces, clock chimes for the meeting of the masters. Remain discrete as guilty secrets cause no shame behind closed doors. Part of the mega bomb. One for the queen ... Not to mention the Army or the law cos' it must ensure that the city clean. And they know they will get their way, as the protests in the streets echo. (Blood is not on the road) are hired killer his bow and their armor away from the heat! The food ... But there are other stories, other walls...
Keywords: the Legendary Pink Dots, Wall Purges Night, Curse, Edward Ka-Spel, Goth
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