If I'm Censoring For Anyone,

You Have This Mounting Aggressive Ignorance With The Rabbit's Foot Of Their Particular Religion. You Don't Really Have Any Kind Of Spiritual Law, Just A Kind Of A Rabid Mental Illness. The Songs Are A Little Slice Of Life.

Fibers In A Variety Of Colors Protrude Out Of My Skin Like Mushrooms After A Rainstorm. They Cannot Be Forensically Identified As Animal, Vegetable Or Mineral.

I Could Drink A Case Of You.

We Love Our Lovin'....but Not Like We Love Our Freedom.

Inside Your Own Self Pity There You Swim, In Sinking Down To Drown Her Voice Still Haunts You, And Only With Your Laughter Can You Win.