nine the less

weird wiliamesque stuff

 

Wild boys and wild girls are jacking off in the streets reading aloud verses by william s burroughs and just by that i know this is it. The time has come to fight like hell so grab your snub nose .38 aim to the sky and squeeze that hot lead right into the prestine face's of a gaggale of angels mindin' their own, shoot down your false idols for fun, eliminate that need for a crutch and get ready to know that no ones wing is hanging over you to coddel you from all harm. Also get it seated in your dumptruck head that you were born with a hughe bullseye painted in day-glo on your gorrila back for every friend to stab you in and for good old god to finally zap your a*s into true thoughtless oblivion one so sweet it'll make ya' tear up just thinkin' about what life could have been like.