Testo Print Is Dead

What's black and white with blood surely spilled? It's the queues of the views. Of the neo-con news. I spent three years in my bed. Wake up to find print is dead. Bleeding ears by shouting heads. So many words with nothing said. In their sight money makes right and a nation suffers fools. Have you ever felt in your life more fucking used? I spent three years in my bed. Wake up to find print is dead. Bleeding ears by shouting heads. I wish I had stayed in bed. I survived Wednesday morning while the kind people cried. Just this working class kid who writes to stay alive. Keep it alive. Photoshop the smiles and spin the tears. They'd do anything to feed our hopes and fears. Twist a phrase and disguise a lie. They have no soul to sell because they already live in hell