music: now playing

The object of war is not to die for your country, but to make the other bastard to die for his.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
In Soviet Russia,
Poem writes you.

Join the Mos Croatia rebellion on Facebook or Twitter

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
In Soviet Russia,
Poem writes you.

...they were crying when their's sons left, God is wearing black...

in the temple of love shine like thunder
in the temple of love cry like rain...

Faith rarelly calls up on us in the moment of our choosing!

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
In Soviet Russia,
Poem writes you.

"Now comes the part where I relieve you, the little people, of the burden of your failed and useless lives. But remember, as my plastic surgeon always said: if you gotta go, go with a smile."

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
In Soviet Russia,
Poem writes you.

Too stupid for jazz, too smart for Rock'n'roll.

...they were crying when their's sons left, God is wearing black...

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
In Soviet Russia,
Poem writes you.

The object of war is not to die for your country, but to make the other bastard to die for his.

Faith rarelly calls up on us in the moment of our choosing!