Recruit.
The first album. The man to his death.
Abyssal, abyssal. I am the only one counting the number.
There is no number, here in this singularity.
Today, burnt away again. Army of Seraphim. I need to die. Take me.
The new age begins with the walking, death, and the white horse.
The ancient text, the journey to the holy pilgrimage. Death…. is a number.
I am an obliterated splattered rot. Transmogrification of hell.
Build me an iron mask. The warrior, to the fight of the story of the living hell.
We gonna be heading, to the Squatch. Did you hear about the Star-Child skull yet?
5 comments
cowboy bebop. secret music. I don’t belong in a jazz / blues club.
man… I don’t belong anywhere. Who is it that sings… for me.
Who is it to, do I sing…. here in the binary… of entire life. Here… The throne of Hades.
The most beautiful sound. The hippies, the flower childs. An ancient story, a battle, in our dying jungles.
listening to the bebop blues…………. Spike, are you Keanu Reeves?
Man, you really get my conspiracy theory juices flowing. That’s it, I’m getting my tinfoil hat…
Oh, INDIGO MIKE PAPA.
Tinfoil hats uh…….. perhaps that really is the ultimate protection, for if ever against Cthulhu, the possesser. o0
Oh no, the M-29 Davy Crockett Weapon System would be my best bet against that tutu-wearing monstrosity. Shove a nuke up his toosh and be on my way to get a Georgie Pie.
Noice.