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Rising up from within, the toll of evolution,
I am not without sin, but I'm not here for procreation.
These rolling waves of pain, the tides of boiling crimson,
Turn into red stains, fuck you menstruation.Get me my chocolate! Get me my wheat bag! Cancel the meeting! Not leaving this seating!
Put that thing back where it came from or so help me..."
"Bom, bom, bom, bom..."
"So help me! So help me! And cut. We're still working on it, it's a work in progress but, hey, we need ushers."
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