Imagine. Imagine a sweaty man in a chicken suit kissing you once in a while. Imagine this man is so gravitationally bound to you that he can’t miss you when jumping into a swimming pool. Imagine he still likes to kneel in front of you, and you have to help him up now because he misunderstood gravity that one time. Imagine you’ve decided his new guitar is very biteable. (Yours is just lickable.) The man has decided you are both lickable and biteable (ouch). Imagine your commonalities are that you both 1) like music and guitars, and 2) are stubborn and whiny. Imagine your biggest fight was over an album about hearts aflame and horse riding and the sun. Imagine tasting the smoke on his breath while you sing about those burning hearts now. Imagine caring about the sweaty chicken man and so you nuzzle him and pet him and give him kisses and he doesn’t squawk at you. Imagine you are Paul Landers.
In the wreckage of dreams, we’ll build anew,
Our spirits unbroken, our hearts ever true.
Against the currents of doubt, we’ll take a stand,
For in unity, we’ll make our final stand. (с)
"Rammstall"
'Crossing blades' in a shared stall. Inspired by an actual touring scene as recounted by Flake in the book "Heute hat die Welt Geburtstag".
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