Mr Hart Couldn't Hear The Word Death Songtext
Oh well Mr. Hart isn't trying to be a nice guy any longer. It is he decides an uphill and unrewarding work.
Mr. Hart sets out to be death. He learns to kill through his newspapers. And he teaches his editors the tricks as they crawl up his ladder.
'Now you just move this tenement vowel over here and burn some more niggers'
Chuckling over roasted babies, car accidents and riots like a southern law man feeling his nigger notches.
Mr. Hart has to be inhuman because humans are mortal. And Mr. Hart is addicted to immortality.
He addicted to immortality predicated on the mortality of others. Gooks, Niggers, Wogs, human dogs. And feeling his own contempt for these 'apes!' affords him a minimal calms.
He's addicted to a certain brain frequency a little high and blue, don't feel so good, and feeling you to swing in it forever and ever.
And this cool blue frequency comes from making hands tremble and sweat. And feeling the dear meritorious poor rig on slobber under his boots.
For making people UGLY and grinding their faces in it. From now he can SQUASH and editor like a BUG, you see and his editors knew it.
You see the action B.J. this soul searching tycoon with this dark side to his character.
'Mr. Hart death will not serve a stranger who cannot prove his title. A Gringo who fears the very word and sets up a house rule that the word 'death' may not be pronounced in his presence'
'Hey look at all them dead bodies!' Audrey points with his left hand as Virus B-23.
Surfacing remote sees to pass time, rages through cities of the world like a topping forest fire.
Last date Mr. Hart deserted, ruined mansion, graffiti on the walls 'APOOK WAS HERE'
'HERE LIVES A STUPID VULGAR SON OF A BITCH WHO THOUGHT HE COULD HIRE DEATH AS A COMPANY CAR!'
Thank-you
Mr. Hart sets out to be death. He learns to kill through his newspapers. And he teaches his editors the tricks as they crawl up his ladder.
'Now you just move this tenement vowel over here and burn some more niggers'
Chuckling over roasted babies, car accidents and riots like a southern law man feeling his nigger notches.
Mr. Hart has to be inhuman because humans are mortal. And Mr. Hart is addicted to immortality.
He addicted to immortality predicated on the mortality of others. Gooks, Niggers, Wogs, human dogs. And feeling his own contempt for these 'apes!' affords him a minimal calms.
He's addicted to a certain brain frequency a little high and blue, don't feel so good, and feeling you to swing in it forever and ever.
And this cool blue frequency comes from making hands tremble and sweat. And feeling the dear meritorious poor rig on slobber under his boots.
For making people UGLY and grinding their faces in it. From now he can SQUASH and editor like a BUG, you see and his editors knew it.
You see the action B.J. this soul searching tycoon with this dark side to his character.
'Mr. Hart death will not serve a stranger who cannot prove his title. A Gringo who fears the very word and sets up a house rule that the word 'death' may not be pronounced in his presence'
'Hey look at all them dead bodies!' Audrey points with his left hand as Virus B-23.
Surfacing remote sees to pass time, rages through cities of the world like a topping forest fire.
Last date Mr. Hart deserted, ruined mansion, graffiti on the walls 'APOOK WAS HERE'
'HERE LIVES A STUPID VULGAR SON OF A BITCH WHO THOUGHT HE COULD HIRE DEATH AS A COMPANY CAR!'
Thank-you