In memory of all you dead fucks :
You think that Jesus loves you, but you should just love yourself.
Peace. Things are swell between heaven and hell,
I see flowers and Jesus fixed my laptop.
Geometrical humans meet scary avatars,
What if art ruled the world they say.
I pity city dwellers that risk their lives every time they cross the street.
In a way we are socially handicapped,
I'm sure there is a story there, between the love brigade and this fragility.
She brought an umbrella and an AK47,
Mona Lisa is the bomb but she doesn't have a clue.
Shit yeah girl!
The hobo nation, bum power and good bye labrador.
Someone is missing, there is poison everywhere.
I love Brooklyn, they all have beards.
Party people and bikes upside down,
A dog swallowed a boom box courtesy of your friendly neighborhood.
Morons against the art army, it's fool's gold for love stories.
Mickey died for your sins, the ass hole lost his dignity so you win.
Funk the police, say I love you.
I want a continuation, not an ending.