[Darth Eggplant]

darkness slithers off the wings of my souls as morbid puppies scamper at the feet of higher learning, oh I long for the days when all heaven met hell in a lovely roadside lemonaid stand where satan and jack laid back with a coll frosty snowman late so late one afternoon on the 30th of february while russian dancers pranced with ancient mummies of doom, not the video game either. so first person shooters exile your self in cyan clouds of poppies withing the emerald isle of mann in time to the beat that goes forth, and now ket us here for thee from me to devine wanderings of my mind.