Quote:
Originally Posted by Pretty Little Flower
The max that we’ll see is a few thousand dead!
(We get that each day, but who cares what I said)
Instead I’ll attack all these men made of straw
To distract from my bullshit, the truth is too raw
I get oh so mad when I’m caught in a lie
So I write awful poems at home when I’m high
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The weed thinks it could make one mad
The weed is impossibly sad
Some would say plainly, insanely (inanely?) deluded
It's clear the ground on which he lives should be denuded
