Black bass. Black race. The gothic empire, the last in dire. The devour, of all, has settled. The sound of the new age, before, the march of the horse. The next one thousand years. Evolve me. To fight back. To die for it. The predecessors have all been taken. Tears and love, Princess Diana. The cannon. The lion. The sabre of light; the ultimate hope. You, too. Now we know, a group of killer narcissist does not want to lose control. Pig-head monsters. I am the undertaker, call me the stone cold stunner. We will go right under. […]