By sporadic I really just meant shit.
I bet you missed your Saturday tune, you pack of leeching cunts. I was going to put up some Cure but despite Robert's efforts sometimes those homies out of Crawley just ain't big enough. There are feelings outside of adolescent self-absorption and petulance, I have recently discovered, and these are not covered, no, not even by 'Lovecats'.
Big I want, and big you're going to get. Jesus big. Jesus agreeing with my opinion that in the astronomically unlikely event of His existing, God is a bit of a cunt, big.
By way of further introduction, let it be know that this song was violently censored in the school production in which I played, once again, a non-speaking apostle.
Finally, Riker tells me she is a believer. I feel like Dick Cheney, but without the power or riches.
And so I give you Jesus and some quality shrieking:
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