Bambi:
You call your son Angel Boy cos in the bricks, the softer the name, the harder the man. But Gideon was hard. And you were hard. And your daddy was hard. And look at us. Deceased, derelict, departed. And you swear, Angel Boy won't end up a savage. Dead, smiling on a T-Shirt. He won't work the corner. He won't work the curb. He won't want to be the emperor under this dark Imperial highway. Because monarchs are not elected around here. They're made with a gun. And they reign only until it rains... all over.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:56
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