i am the god of hellfire and i bring you.
duhda duuuh, duh!
satan will surely cast you into the lake of fire. or maybe god will cast you in there. along with satan.
your twitching ankles rubbing together like the small, fiery stick that you are.
my plane of existence is better than your plane, because mine is fake and yours is real.
doesn't that suck for you?
doesn't that make you blind with anger?
doesn't that make you sorry?
didn't i see it coming?
that's a strange way to show me
how you feel
if we all sing together, we can sing a song of sixpence.
charlie had a charlie horse before a horse like mr. ed could sing, regardless of whether or not the man who sang for mr. ed is now deceased.
it all comes together with your laundry cakewalk.
st. germain speaks to my existence before you colored your face with chocolate cake and donuts, without the "gh" to be extra safe.
and isn't that what charmin is all about?
going to the races, being racist and racing to win the race before losing the web of destructive force.
all the young kids say that today.
except the ones who are blind.
ethically, spiritually and ethnically.
on your noggin.
don't be hoggin.
cake on my skywalk
don't be loggin.
grin n bear it.