and in the distance...
And far in the distance...
Transatlantic hearts fight transatlantic wars.
A child screams indecencies and hatred lies to his parents, in hopes for social reform, but only frustration as it's just as soon passed off as hormones.
Bombs drop from building tops, and makeshift shoulder straps hold tight rifles to the backs of the enemy, and the word cocktail takes on an entirely new meaning.
A young man with a cell-phone-earpiece, sits pretentious in a bar in the southern tip of the san fernando valley, who's biggest concern was the shipping date of two and twenty boxes of explicit videos.
Bullets leave long bullet trails that whip up dust in the heat of battle, and run unfettered courses from tan to red from tan to red and from tan to red.
School children bow their head in prayer before school day lessons, and ride buses home to sunday clothes sitting atop freshly made beds, bus to car to pew, cried the swan.
Coffins ride home in bumpy cargo trucks, as the driver turned to his side seat and said something like "this road is a bitch, but no one ever seems to complain" with a chuckle, and the side seat responds with a heartly laugh and the coffins in the back undulate with each bump up and down, and the road grew deeper with each passer by.
A puffy stomached baby is held by a news reporter asking for couch change, oatmeal, potato chips, and public popularity, ultimately means to the manet over the mantle.
A document is released, detailing the wasted use of 21 bullets, and how the budget is affected.
Children scream injustice and unsubstantiated lies, Children scream "Red and blue, we bleed red and blue, we bleed red and blue"
A soldier hunkers in the shadowed corner of clay buidling with war-torn walls, and thinks of college.
Classrooms full of students sit against walls with the lights off, and think of college.
Posters proclaim entrance into protecting masses, and the composite wood desk, with grain overlays sit in the far corner of a room housing two uniforms, who all promise college.
A young man walks through the glass doors, in the dim lit overcast daylight, takes bumperstickersandpens, signs papers and thinks of death.
Transatlantic hearts fight transatlantic wars.
A child screams indecencies and hatred lies to his parents, in hopes for social reform, but only frustration as it's just as soon passed off as hormones.
Bombs drop from building tops, and makeshift shoulder straps hold tight rifles to the backs of the enemy, and the word cocktail takes on an entirely new meaning.
A young man with a cell-phone-earpiece, sits pretentious in a bar in the southern tip of the san fernando valley, who's biggest concern was the shipping date of two and twenty boxes of explicit videos.
Bullets leave long bullet trails that whip up dust in the heat of battle, and run unfettered courses from tan to red from tan to red and from tan to red.
School children bow their head in prayer before school day lessons, and ride buses home to sunday clothes sitting atop freshly made beds, bus to car to pew, cried the swan.
Coffins ride home in bumpy cargo trucks, as the driver turned to his side seat and said something like "this road is a bitch, but no one ever seems to complain" with a chuckle, and the side seat responds with a heartly laugh and the coffins in the back undulate with each bump up and down, and the road grew deeper with each passer by.
A puffy stomached baby is held by a news reporter asking for couch change, oatmeal, potato chips, and public popularity, ultimately means to the manet over the mantle.
A document is released, detailing the wasted use of 21 bullets, and how the budget is affected.
Children scream injustice and unsubstantiated lies, Children scream "Red and blue, we bleed red and blue, we bleed red and blue"
A soldier hunkers in the shadowed corner of clay buidling with war-torn walls, and thinks of college.
Classrooms full of students sit against walls with the lights off, and think of college.
Posters proclaim entrance into protecting masses, and the composite wood desk, with grain overlays sit in the far corner of a room housing two uniforms, who all promise college.
A young man walks through the glass doors, in the dim lit overcast daylight, takes bumperstickersandpens, signs papers and thinks of death.