Tekster: Pg. 99. Life In A Box.

It seems to be cold in here, inside the empty head of you. The end of you. When you speak, your pink, pink pout spouts out poison, and without a doubt, they believe in you. Idiot, well I know, yes I know, what this is about. I have most definitely figured you out. Behind your vile smile, here is more teeth than I can count and a pair of horns to go with your lying grin.