Ahhh, Monday, the last day of July, July.
A matter of days until the Fall, I cannot wait.
Riddle me this,
"Who is the fool? The man who knows his own ill? Or the man that is blind to it?"
On Madness and Reason,
"As a Captain on this Ship of Fools, I must co-ordinate all divisions of labor into a perfectly chaotic and mutinous machine. Napolean Bonaparte-heid ambitions shattered like his week, frail ego. Sailors chants echo to the landlocked souls. They flock to the shore like suicidal rats. Take us away from this torturous music..."
These Functional Savages shall burn...
A matter of days until the Fall, I cannot wait.
Riddle me this,
"Who is the fool? The man who knows his own ill? Or the man that is blind to it?"
On Madness and Reason,
"As a Captain on this Ship of Fools, I must co-ordinate all divisions of labor into a perfectly chaotic and mutinous machine. Napolean Bonaparte-heid ambitions shattered like his week, frail ego. Sailors chants echo to the landlocked souls. They flock to the shore like suicidal rats. Take us away from this torturous music..."
These Functional Savages shall burn...
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I keep forgetting to give you the Stuart Davis CD I have for you.