We're living in an age where home made simply means maybe not manufactured in a factory. Slick corporate bushwacking of tastes makes scurrying rats out of nonsecular individuals and the idea of evil to most has been diluted enough, so much in fact that cute teen babes throw it around like a pillow at a slumber party while painted fags dance on the tube. Well choke on this... Bbronk. Spit it out and it pollutes the water you drink. Bbronk. Convulse and writhe in agony, you love it. Bbronk. You want evil? You have no choice assface. Bbronk kicks in the door to your nightmare for they have been summoned to mass. March now with Bbronk or have your bowels twisted. Suit yourself 'cuz if you're not with us you're against us. Oh you poor tortured souls that breathe the spit of hellfire - you know who you are. Join the ranks of your kindred spirit. Chop and hack your way through the pudenda of the false mother alongside the Marquis de Sade, Poe, Lovecraft, and Larry Bud Melman (this man is pure evil). Remember that the dark is only scary when you don't know what's in it. Bbronk is there, in the dark, waiting and lurking, frothing at the mouths, hungry and angry, ready to force feed the contemptuous buckets of their own bloody steaming bullshit. Take the furry hand of Bbronk down the path to Mettalic heaven. i.e... Hell.
Hello! You guys were my favorite band way back when. I had a cassette that I played over & over & I bet if I looked hard enough I still might have it somewhere.
