Page Ninety Nine

It seems to be cold in here, inside the empty head of you, the end of you.
When you speak, your pink, pink pout spouts out poison, and without a doubt they believe in you...
idiots, well I know, yes I know what this is about.
I have most definetly figured you out, behind your vile smile there is more teeth than I can count and a pair of hours to go with your lying grin.