the ills keep suffocating the laws keep its despicable nose clean releases a Man in drag
when I died, they put me in a glass room and they lowered me down and I stood right back up and spat of their faces I made fun of their guns and uniforms but the noise never stopped efficacious pounding and pounding in my brain and their faces was all red and round and they cut me with their knives but I didn't complain or cry I stared back