I'm the reason Satan sleeps with the light on.
Taste like sugar, but it's Novocaine.
She's grinding teeth so she can sharpen the pain
White lights, Train wreck.
She's a still thrill of suicide they say,
Cyanide in her plastic veins
She's a mannequin of misery,
She's on a bender,
But she ain't gonna break.
Well, um, hi. What the hell are you doing here? I'm only intending to waste your time. Not leaving? Well, here. Rules. Maybe that'll scare you off.
1. If you are a wannabe ANYTHING and you contact me, you won't wake up tomorrow.
2. You have a problem with insanity? Go somewhere else.
3. I live in Louisiana, but if you call me any of these, I will remove any features that could identify your dead body for the system.
A. Hick
B. hillbilly
C. Lacking in Intellect/intelligence
D. Redneck
4. Do NOT call me sweetheart, kitten, sweetie or any other pet name. Doing so will result in your IMMEDIATE demise.
5. Using text talk or any way of shortening words toward me and I will make it so you cannot have children. Even if you are a female.
6. Call me a b***h. I know I'm one.
7. I doubt I'll like you, but why not try?
8. Following the system will get you killed.
Still here? GET LOST! scream
Black lips, Pale Eyes
Cyanide Sweet Tooth Suicide.
She's a killer,
She's my,
Cyanide Sweet Tooth Suicide.
Strychnine Cerebellum feeds the brain,
Hurricane and a violent rage.
They say,
She's a looker just like Anna Nicole.
Oh, no.
******** the silver,
Let's go straight for the gold.
 OverlordLunacy · Fri May 15, 2009 @ 10:19pm · 0 Comments |
