crowpath
The Suburban Plague
welcome to our home known for nothing. our home, suitable neither for heaven nor hell. enveloped in boredom. restless kids lick filthy fingers clean. the bastards go berserk every night, without sense, out of control, chaos. over and over again, they stay here like ghosts, loyal to shit. by dawn they will go home as heroes with bloody knuckles and empty bottles.
From Letras Mania