A poem of love, by yours truely, Johnny Flapjacks.
As the rain will fall
and the artist will draw.
As the madman will scrawl
and the baby will crawl.
One thing is for sure, FUCK YOU!
As my thoughts will escape
and the evil will rape.
As the cameras will tape
and the sorrow will drape.
One thing is for sure, FUCK YOU!
As the...
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