Metalcolly

Witnessing the excrescence of what you adore is a trying bestowal. Watching as the blood slowly cascades down your arm, knowing full well that it will soon reach that hand, the fingers, and drip, drip upon the floor, drip upon the lifeless soul from which it came. Your thoughts have grown into somewhat regrettable actions. It can leave a bad taste in your mouth, like drinking 6 bourbons then running 10kms. Metal the fuck up and go listen to Vulgar Display of Power.