Look at the morning sun. A thirteenth month was born. Who wants to play this game?. Answer your mission. Reflection of your mind. Leads me to my grave.
Bloodred industries. Blue sky. Moving towards my suicide. This is my deathwish. Convicted to you. Deformity of blood. Melting psychopaths. In pieces of plastic.
Whispering - From a part inside. Of you laughing in a dream. Which may be true. Plants - Of - The - Bizarre. You feel a act of mercy. Those gluttonous.
I asked myself how can I hurt someone that's by my side. Knowing how you would take me back beautiful girl from way off track. But leaving me blue has made me grow I played myself I told you so.
In Panama zogst du mich auf deine Knie,. bei Südwestwind auf dem Vorderschiff,. verdarbst du mich, so wie noch nie,. . Wenn du im Sturm die Segel setzt,.
PLEASE. Bing Crosby. (Robin, Rainger). - Bing first recorded "Please" Sept. 16, 1932 with the Anson Weeks Orchestra.. It spent 16 weeks in the charts, including six weeks at No. 1. Bing.
People get ready, there's a train a comin'. You don't need no baggage, you just get on board. All you need is faith, to hear the diesels hummin'. Don't need no ticket, you just thank the Lord.
Potkol sa o kamen, spadol do blata,. lezi a nadava, cesta zasrata.. A v tom blate vidi, krasnych chrobakov,. ciernych, zltych, modrych, lesklych ako kov..
Here I sit, my life's a model kit. But I burned the instructions and the pieces don't fit. I eat Spaghettio's, turn on the stereo. And keep in mind my best case scenario.
push-pinned my picture to your wall,. framed it in pieces of argyle.. there's a thread for every minute I missed my chance to begin it.. I could feel the pressure building up as I cram it to the top,.
Rubber fetish. Latex fuck. PVC. Your skin is white as pure sin. Nun costumes. Bullwhips. Hoods and chains. Sperm and blood covers your face. Enter the dome of pleasure and pain.
It is about the power of the hand,. the power of the man. Mastering your mind. It is about stimulation,. that of a firm grip. How to use your hands. It is about imagination.
My world view shattered when prophecies failed. I loathe this world, it makes me sick. I am tired of eating/vomiting out the lies. Confused, beaten, crippled by this life.
Reaping the holy from their misery...forever. Harvest of hell believers weep. Total destruction of whore mankind...perish. Sign of the times hellbound unity.
Penis et circes. Dominate the weaklings. Ecstatic whippings. Iron and chains. Branding the slaves. Mastering the games. chorus: Hail Satan, master, weeping christians burn at stake.
(Cornelis Vreeswijk). Personliga Persson satt en morgon vid frukostbordet. Och lste i morgonbladet att det senaste lustmordet. Bjd p en mngd pikanta detaljer.
The room is spinning upside down. No air to make a sound. There is nothing I can do. It's searing touch upon my skin. Let's me know it will begin. I'm in its hands now.
Their censure forced the decision. Their murder forced by incision. . With furtive defiance I ended their lives. My allegiance to the scalpel has reshaped mine.
This man may have a shit load to prove. He's got to settle a score against the groove. Infinite orgasm, endless joy and pain. Like thunder to my ears, like a holy rain.