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The loved, and the lame.
The loved, and the lame. "Oh it's a sad sad story, I be telling, about an outlaw man who will surely die".. Iam an outlaw man, but only in my illness interpretation of it, for I never hurt nobody, really? I've hurt and cheated only my own body, mind, spirit.. Cheated out of any kind of a good and happy life. "But it's my Gene's, my Gene's, these rotten no good defective Gene's I Never asked for!! " Ofcourse it's the Gene's, you wimpy whiny miserable weakling you! So now what? Is that it? Are we done now? Should the gun come out, that weapon of wood and steel? Will "Charlene" be joining me tonight in that so lonely dry shower stall? Would she even try to save me if she could? Our last moments together.. why not take the shot! My health is shot. My dick is nearly dead . And I never going to<b> get sex </font></b>and love from a Real woman. Never caress her flesh, or all the good things you get with sexual intimacy.. Even my dreams are bad now, like being on the run, but can't escape myself.. so how does this sad song end when i catch up? "Oh it's a sad sad story I be telling, about an outlaw man who will surely die " my trail of tears.. |
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