I Was Born To Hustle Roses Down

Sex Can Sometimes Become The Most Horrible Of Tasks.

Now Something So Sad Has Hold Of Us That The Breath Leaves And We Can't Even Cry.

The Impossibility Of Being Human All Too Human This Breathing In And Out Out And In These Punks These Cowards These Champions These Mad Dogs Of Glory Moving This Little Bit Of Light Toward Us Impossibly.

The Sea Is Made Of Blood

One More Drink And You're Dead. This Is No Way To Talk To A Suicide Head.