Letra de Turner Classic Diaries
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Gutless, comatose, freedom rings, sounding from
a shallow grave, clamoring for some sweet sickness.
Hark, the herald angels sing of misanthropes and monuments,
a shallow grave, clamoring for some sweet sickness.
Hark, the herald angels sing of misanthropes and monuments,
Razor-wired with hunger pangs, gnashing teeth and impotence. Turner Classic Diaries.
The order of anger is sequenced in hate.
Cosmo-theistic doctrines of fiction by foolish children
who firmly believe there is no comfort like fear.
It’s gutless.
Wave the flag, sing the praises. Thin the herd before they breed.
Throwing stones from glass houses, gun shows, and the Waco siege.
What a man, and what a message, ignorant and asinine.
The Oklahoma City bombing, thanks to you, now realized.
Turner Classic Diaries.
The order of anger is sequenced in hate.
Cosmo-theistic doctrines of fiction by foolish children
who firmly believe there is no comfort like fear.
It’s gutless. You should be so ashamed.
The order of anger is sequenced in hate.
Cosmo-theistic doctrines of fiction by foolish children
who firmly believe there is no comfort like fear.
It’s gutless.
Wave the flag, sing the praises. Thin the herd before they breed.
Throwing stones from glass houses, gun shows, and the Waco siege.
What a man, and what a message, ignorant and asinine.
The Oklahoma City bombing, thanks to you, now realized.
Turner Classic Diaries.
The order of anger is sequenced in hate.
Cosmo-theistic doctrines of fiction by foolish children
who firmly believe there is no comfort like fear.
It’s gutless. You should be so ashamed.
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