Teksty:
Thought Industry Mods Carve The Pig Assassins Toads And God S Flesh

to die and I'll keep cutting. Say you have to die and I'll keep cutting you. It's a magic world. Swim erratic in the water. Thick as gelatin. No skin.

bloop gumption's "if"? Catholics crust lust my stomach, Jim's dumb tame moray. How many times, Timmy? How many times, Jenny? Let's rinse and rinse. Scrape

drink starless starlet. You're the stench that sates him. His zipper's sticky on Sunday morn. Ron's a fist of cement late for breakfast. Emmanuel Kant. Hamshackles, and first and

easy stroking farce. I'm not loyal. "Step down Mr. and Mrs. Politically Correct. It's so easy to be "punk" and "aware" living at home. You can't change

the damn line. We'll sleep. Small tent campground. Watch the heat lightning. Jane's wearing my class ring. I'll learn. Sixteen. Driver's license. Car

man; because Jane's now dead, because Jane's been dead. Because Jane's found dead. My wife's now dead. My wife's found dead. Jane's left dead.