you were rotting in a grave when i grabbed your arm and pulled you to the surface.

The blind can now see our downfalls.

Collective Blind: Your downfall can be seen in a bottle of Heinz Mustard, 2nd shelf, the one with a slightly torn label.

The deaf can now hear our bad secrets.

Collective Deaf: You left the blood on the counter to spill on the floor. The blood formed veins in the cracks of the tile, the blood reached to the back door where it spilled outside then into the garden.

A little piece of him will grow in that garden, his vines will clutch onto children and tell them how you did it and how you got away. Think Little Shop of Horrors without the carnage.Your conscious is now guilty.

War veterans are now speaking in schools to help scare courage out of our youth.

World War 1 Vet: We were in the trench together. Both of us. The longer we stayed in, the shorter our lives became. The mustard gas came and I saw a constellation of skulls, trapped souls and conquistadors. The dead wont stop bothering me.

Hitler snapped the space shuttle in half, Lenin helped him. Jim Jones cleaned up the mess and served punch. Japanese generals made a mess, covered it up, and used mobile chem units to untie bones apart. The Italian is a liar, his horse is wearing fleece. She was the greatest star of our time, she gains a few gray hairs, now they call her washed up. Michael Jackson and Vangelis did not supply the soundtrack to this post, a Montrealian did. I put on the wrong song and now my thoughts are flying out. I need no help, just a dead movie star.

"Please help us back on to our feet. Escort us to the ejector seats." -Swervedriver