Since April two thousand four, it was a never ending race that I already knew, before I started my fat plans. No one was ment to leave or give. What
goes around comes around. Why would I do such a cruel evil Spirit when I
could slit garbage bags? The mushrooms are still growing. The texture of the skin is so very like dead human flesh it gives me a smile. It confuses me in a certain level. It should end Now not pretty soon Right now. But there goes the light. A sweet blur torch could spin everything. It's in your head, it's in your head Mother. I tempt to see clear and I tempt to not fear. I close my eyes, and here I am and Here I was No place like home No swear to God I will cheat On You.

-D.C-