miércoles, 25 de agosto de 2010

Muñecas del terror

Broken dolls dance on my corpse at the rate of rigor mortis!
Enjoyed my putrefaction. My flesh crumble...and devour with lemon. They jump on my stomach, nail tear me. Grind my knuckles death does not lie.Go on, still tearing still, still devouring their mouths full tendon.
The blood dripping from his lips plastic! They take a spade and dig my new home; was the burial place of pink geraniums! The bone meal is for the worms. . .

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original Washed Denim por Darren Delaye
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