Tekster:
The Blood Brothers This Adultery Is Ripe

Butter. Butter and babies this shack's distinct aroma. Sugar, I'd come over but it's very hard to hump in front of your children. They're horrific. Your

don't want your favors. This ain't no blackmail this is for amusement. Don't shady pasts make interesting broadcasts? And human error is never an acceptable

you seen the man with the golden crotch? Who oiled the souls of this town of teenage girls. Have you seen the man with the flaxen wig? Who brought this

The last mariner alive on the ark of the Blood Brothers hears the five howls of its haunting. One in the sail when the scales of the oil ocean glow pink

embryo, traced by fleshy twilight, pleading for cesarean. You can see it all from the rooftops a swollen vagina in the sky. Threatening birth three shades of blood

I can't stand to fuck these walls. Desolation! I can't stand to suck these halls. But how do I sleep when the skin I stroke underneath the sheets is mannequin