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Gentleman. sir: I hate to be your cancer. I hate to hurt. Gentleman. Sir: I suck the devastation in a sweaty shirt. We're on a rim. Gentleman. ma'am: They fight themselves disasters and they seldom win. Gentleman, gatekeeper: I found a little rape clog. I found a tin inside the brain. Inside the home, under the planks, I am alone and in disguise, Letras de cancionesa strengthening pole and a harming gasp. Gentleman, sir: I hate to be your cancer. I hate to hurt. I'm working for your landmine. I'm working in the Earth. I'm on a rim. From Letras Mania