En el bar de tu cara,
las noticias no importan,
el clima pasa por los cojones,
varias onzas de whisky,
un poco de soda,
y el reloj de pared,
puede irse con su péndulo,
a registrarse bajo el nombre de su madre
al infierno...
i choose not to choose life, i choose something else and the reasons? there are no reasons. who needs reasons? not me,not myself, not even if i get drunk and cause people think it's all about misery and desperation and all that shite which is not to be ignored, but what they forget is the pleasure of it. Otherwise we wouldn't do it. after all we're not stupid. at least we're not that fucking stupid.......