The blue bus is calling us.

No eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn.

Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as ravens claws.

The most loving parents and relatives commit murder with smiles on their faces. They force us to destroy the person we really are: a subtle kind of murder.

I don't think either one of us have had the flu since we started getting them,

All of these things have given us the impression that the skinhead movement has been growing.