It takes guts and a gun, just like in bud dwyer's lil' surprise. a defect, no one'll ever see it coming. I'm indulging myself in a strategic advance
Orchestrated by the enemy. it dwells deep, yet grows strong, within...
(Am I working against myself? Well, am I?)
Everything dreadful happening, imagine how I should feel, when realizing that it was planned, from a
beginning that I don't even recall, you might call this a tragedy, seems more to me like simple standard habits. wishing to be finally saved, waiting for
something/someone that would order me to follow a certain purpose with both convictions & deviations. if you'd only knew how... I'm tired of your
paintings. your bold landscapes suck and have ceased to amaze me long ago. be a pal and let me add a fantasy of mine, abstraction. of scarlet and red
pure... so pure. are there any written rules related to simplicity (of actions, of thoughts...) I guess not. so how come your judging? you won't the day
that it will end, drenched in vital fluids (.357) as you are forced to witness the spontaneity of the events. and I won't be a bother no more.
The Bud Dwyer Effect Lyrics