hailin fire, chopping people in half wit bullets, day dreaming about burying them by hand, slowly, while layin one single wilted black rose on their casket and sayin a gangsta prayer before pouring out some liquor then shitting on their headstone
yet in a dark closet somewhere in the Midwest MizeryMaid is playing "Eye of the Tiger" on his walman and gathering his strength while wiping tears from his eyes.
This my friends is the quiet before the storm of hurt feelings