SHAKE THAT.
Hurricanes and floods and biblical armageddon are no excuse. You will party and you will dance and you will not allow 7-headed beasties and typhoons and those little snot-rocket demons to stop you. Would Iggy Pop stop for that shit? Hell no. Even James Brown won't stop, and he's DEAD. They have to drive a fucking gravel roller over his grave once a week, to tamp it back down. They wear ear plugs while they do it, too, on account of the sheer volume of James Browns' laughter.
The bible says the dead shall not trouble the living, my fellow weirdos, but you and I know better. Benjamin Franklin's grave is empty, they say, and his rotting corpse dances to bad industrial music in the basement of Liberty Hall. Nobody wants to talk about it, but it's true. The party NEVER ends, at least for those that are serious about it.
And when They try to stop you, dance ON them...One of those Irish jigs that were basically invented by stomping on Roman missionaries. It's the only language they understand, and though they may scream and yell and call for backup, you have the Fighting Jesus on your side, so they're basically fucked (The Fighting Jesus isn't sorry for party rocking).
So DANCE, I tell ya! There isn't TIME for anything else. Dance til you can finally quit that hysterical laugh, because it's disturbing the neighbors.
DANCE, HUMAN FOOLS!
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(If my style of ranting is unacceptable, admins, please say so or just nuke the thread.)
Hurricanes and floods and biblical armageddon are no excuse. You will party and you will dance and you will not allow 7-headed beasties and typhoons and those little snot-rocket demons to stop you. Would Iggy Pop stop for that shit? Hell no. Even James Brown won't stop, and he's DEAD. They have to drive a fucking gravel roller over his grave once a week, to tamp it back down. They wear ear plugs while they do it, too, on account of the sheer volume of James Browns' laughter.
The bible says the dead shall not trouble the living, my fellow weirdos, but you and I know better. Benjamin Franklin's grave is empty, they say, and his rotting corpse dances to bad industrial music in the basement of Liberty Hall. Nobody wants to talk about it, but it's true. The party NEVER ends, at least for those that are serious about it.
And when They try to stop you, dance ON them...One of those Irish jigs that were basically invented by stomping on Roman missionaries. It's the only language they understand, and though they may scream and yell and call for backup, you have the Fighting Jesus on your side, so they're basically fucked (The Fighting Jesus isn't sorry for party rocking).
So DANCE, I tell ya! There isn't TIME for anything else. Dance til you can finally quit that hysterical laugh, because it's disturbing the neighbors.
DANCE, HUMAN FOOLS!
- - - Updated - - -
(If my style of ranting is unacceptable, admins, please say so or just nuke the thread.)
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