Panthers Panthers! Pow! Pow!
if i die in a car crash call it sculpture, the brash
result of a failed suicide. im the makeout king of
valhalla and the brooding son of a gun. cant fault the
drummer if hes got none. you never gave him some. come
on, come on, bring it back around. come on, come on, i
dare you to get down. get off. kiss yourself.