The sun is shining bright. Darkness is all around, locked in promiscuous soon to be broken hearts. It's the first day of spring. The future's black and holy, and we see imaginary suns slipping through our mistaken souls. Ready to be torn apart. Ready for the blue-neon apocalypse of another dirty night.
We are ready. The unholy war of sex and passionless disappointment calls us by the name. All the homeless spirits cry, oh they cry, for the fratricide of our sad dirty dreams of raped lovers under the blue empty sky.
Let the shredded heart and bones prove, once and for all, that all of our faked smiles will soon be ripped apart by the memories of dark incestuous futures yet to come.
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