Fry me till I'm crispy
 

wrote these lyrics for one of my old bands.


Fry me till I'm crispy






Ignorance, sells some pretty sad statements
and so do the people that sell
stars to the moon
Blanketing bodies with sparkles
sparking, hormones to rise
eleventeen until deciding
what shade of red is right?

Innocence
torn and wet clothes
standing by
the one she loved most
he got up and said
these three words
You're brain dead
again, again and again

Sex is breathing to a whore like you.

yeah. yeah. whore. whoooooooooooooooore!