deepundergroundpoetry.com
Simply Die
Christmas is dead, just like the blackman in my shed, Serial killer hairdresser fred, He loves you, he loves you....
With an axe in my mind im digging up the tiles, all the while....
Im sick of your shit!
So die! And leave me to my twisted thoughts
Or I! Will see to it you never speak at all
With an axe in my mind im digging up the tiles, all the while....
Im sick of your shit!
So die! And leave me to my twisted thoughts
Or I! Will see to it you never speak at all
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