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What gives you the right to fuck with our lives: CCXI
What gives you the right to fuck with our lives: CCX
What gives you the right to fuck with our lives: CCIX
and she feeling around for them pills
and i'd probably feel a whole lot better when you'...
best friend, I'll see you in the end, broken for a...
bruises that don't heal
floating in a most peculiar way
What gives you the right to fuck with our lives: C...
except for the ring of that truncheon thing
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
showers that cleanse you of your life:
You are Dave Lombardo. You have returned to the Slayer fold. You have a mission: to propel the breakdown in "South of Heaven" with the relentless torque of pure blunt force trauma. Hundreds of frenzied Slayer fans at the 9:30 Club have just had their faces peeled off by the acidity of "Raining Blood"; they know that next they will be claimed by "Angel of Death." But between the two aural cliffs lies "South of Heaven," and you, Dave Lombardo, play the role of Charon.
But suddenly you decide to accelerate! You have cut time in half -- in fourths, even! For a brief moment, the breakdown ends. Confusion reigns. The conjoined hearts of hundreds of people were pulsating: Thoom. Thoom. Thoom. No more. Madness. Tom Araya suddenly beams a bemused grin. The fourth wall is broken. Things are less evil. You quickly realize your mistake and adjust, but the damage is done. Heaven is only one or two exits southward. Slayer is downright holy.