http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/politics/article6211101.ece
What a crock, filthy bastards. Reckon that I can tick a box for them to delete my spam emails, if they’ll be reading them anyway? Hell, maybe they’ll appreciate all the viagra, penis enlargement and porn spam people get daily – I’m sure they could use it.
Interestingly, they’re also talking of phasing in the ID card scheme in Manchester (IIRC). Voluntarily, at first, of course. But I gotta say, the day some whitecollar bitch shows up at my door with an inkpad, cotton swab and a camera is the day I become a felon.
I’ll leave you with this.
Come, you masters of war, you that build all the guns
You that build the death place, you that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls, you that hide behind desks
I just want you to know I can see through your masks
You that never done nothing but to build and destroy
You play with my world like it’s your little toy
You put a drug in my head, then you hide from my eyes
Then you turn and run farther when the fast bullets fly
Like Judas of old, you lie and deceive
A world war can be won, you want me to believe
But I see through your eyes and I see through your brain
Like I see through the water that runs down my drain
You that fasten all the triggers for others to fire
Then you sit back and watch while the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansions while yound people’s blood
Flows out of their bodies and is buried in the mud
You’ve thrown the worst fear that could ever be hurled
The fear to bring children into this world
For threatening my baby, unborn and unnamed
You ain’t worth the blood that runs in your veins
How much do I know, to talk out of turn?
You might say that I’m young, you may say I’m unlearned
But there’s one thing I know, though I’m younger than you
Even Jesus would never forgive what you do
Let me ask you one question; Is your money that good?
Will it buy you forgiveness? Do you think that it could?
I think you will find when your death takes its toll,
All the money you made will never buy back your soul
I hope that you die and your death will come soon
I will follow your casket in the pale afternoon
And I’ll watch as you’re lowered into your deathbed
And I’ll stand o’er your grave ’til I’m sure that you’re dead
Ok those aren’t my final words – these are. The immortal words of Joker.
I’m still in a world of shit, yes, but I’m alive, and I’m not afraid.
