are all broken, cracked buildings expose their insides, just for tonight, slowly giving the secrets they hide. here i lay, so wide awake, what is outside? through these closed eyes
homely way that he'd sooner live in Hell. On a Christmas day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail. Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold
man with infinite potential the product of a ghetto bred capitalistic mental coincidentally dropped out of school to sell weed dancing with the devil, smoked until his eyes
on the street walking alone three in the morning, coming back from work, on her way home and so they quietly got out the car and followed her walking through
- [JACK'S MOTHER] look at her. There are bugs on her dugs. There are flies in her eyes. There's a lump on her rump Big enough to be a hump- [JACK]
dead serenity God damn must have remembered me It clinched me, it wrenched me, tempted me to employ it Apprehended me and rendered me suspended in its voyage How these
man with infinite potetial the product of a ghetto breed capatalistic mental coincidentally dropped out of school to sell weed dancing with the devil, smoked until his eyes
it. Some cowboys were a ridin', ridin' on the range; The grass was over grazed there, and spotted like some mange; The buffalo were dead there, the trees they all were through
appetite for guns is similar to carnivores Dislike me you head on, fight me you dead wrong Cause now a days you only get wet wit my dead on Don't let
Pipe down and swearing. Look, from here on, You'd say nothing wrong. Now try it again. [Roxie Hart] - I was born on... [Velma Kelly] - Come on... You
to me, it takes tiles to tango. Come on. JOE No, no, not on the same floor as Valentino! NORMA Oh come on, come on, come on. Get up. Follow me. And
I've strolled across some dance floors Filled with girls all dressed in red Pulled my foot from my mouth answered back to things I've said Wandered through
involved My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores Dislike me you head on, fight me you dead wrong Cause now a days you only get wet wit my dead on
dreams of man Call everyone to arms We forged these weapons With the strength of our own hands We shot the sun from the sky Apollo dead at our feet
follow or its Dead or alive you'll give up or survive these lungs weren't made for breathing And the lock on the door keeps your head to the floor as the flames dance
crate of bottled water and a sawn off shot gun Try to survive - Don't look into his eyes Try to stay alive - Don't look into his dead, dead eyes You