Growing up we couldn't afford an asteroid, just a rusty old wrecking ball we got from the Sally Anns.
Growing up we couldn't afford an asteroid, just a rusty old wrecking ball we got from the Sally Anns.
lol
Your sons and daughters in the basement hide
Their coming now over the horizon
In numbers over-whelming; our last stand
The battle begins and we choose our side
The noise is deafening, windows explode
Down goes your brother with a mortal wound
The house is surrounded, but the fight goes on
Fire one for my brother, whom I’ll see real soon
Their flag was my flag, not long ago
Their land was my land, we all thought so
Then came the day when they knocked it all down
Crime, corruption, chaos without much sound
They killed my country
Stole my life and my liberty
Things my children shall never see
Then they came for me
No time for crying, I need my guns
There’s so many, must arm my sons
I won’t go down quietly
I will water that tree of liberty
Why would create an artistic master piece from old newspapers and that crape paper just to destroy it? Is this some form of Hispanic performance art per the crazy art liberals thought they invented it. And yes I saw the word crape and decided it was performance art spelling.