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A Day in the Life

Woke up and today I was lucky, I had an inspiration. It will turn into one of my three good songs. I hate this beard but I am too lazy to shave: genuis and pills keep me up all night. Besides, the beard makes me look like a prophet.

I have no idea how cheesy I will be after I am assassinated, my image rediculous, free love with no aesthetics.

Oh, well. There will always be painfully misled peacemongers with greasy hair, and not one tenacious bone in their bodies. They will pray to me: they will think I'm sexy.

So what if I have fucked pop culture all up, making it massive and hollow by posing with a soul. Don't lay the blame, man. You're all fucked up in one way or another, and death made me the legend that it refused to make you.