she is rinsing it off in the river. This is the death market. America, where are your credentials?
America when will we end the human war? Go ꊰu꒝К yourself with your atom bomb. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/49305/america-56d22b41f119f

Album: Collection of Tintypes
Data: 7 noiembrie 2024

Vezi album | Raportează

I‛ll get revenge Pour bleach on your head, and now you‛re dead Disinfect, so hold your breath
We are America. We are the coffin fillers. We are the grocers of death. We pack them in crates like
she is rinsing it off in the river. This is the death market.  America, where are your credentials?
The Awakening of ″La femme rompue″,
PITY THE NATIØN whose people are sheep And whose shepherds mislead them PITY THE NATIØN



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