Obsequey The Death of Art
[Left Speaker]
"They taste tension because it is their life. Chrome complemental. Stop Looking for ourselves. Bored towards most of it. We have grown to complain. The hole we have to fuck her. I'm still captive, hide in the distortion. It's a shame I'm still expected to wave. Though we have no disgruntled. We are lower girls. Man, girls, good evening. Nothing is more propaganda than the world. Tired of them stabbing. I am a... Forever but still I am a door to all of the worst who are jittery. Crazy people pretend me to not give a fuck. And we are made of a dry contact, without the people we aren't alive. We are cows scraping up our genitals, we saved our best milk. Propaganda is not done. Break down me. Then the faces will evolve. Let's just see the only child. The bored are to be of devoured, but not you."

[Right Speaker]
"Let's see what we will bring. We will hide. We have grown just to die. Does it... Their propaganda is not heavy. I have grown bored with their best milk. Evolve. Contact them. Complimental. Tell them to hide. Bored out of this world. No one will answer us. Girls. No one is more abnormal or unimportant than, like them. I tried, I fucked them still. No more establishing. Bored. Don't accept them. About. Our life. Chrome. Bite their bullet. There is fresh something. But all I'm trying to do. Is about their lifestyle is fucked. Without those people we grow disgruntled. Propaganda has always worked. They are very dull. I expected their lives. Girls. There has to be something."