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  1. #4021
    Join Date
    Feb 2008
    Location
    Pen Island
    Posts
    5,545

    Default

    Dance With the Devil - Immortal Technique

  2. #4022
    Join Date
    Mar 2010
    Location
    Somewhere in Tennessee
    Posts
    1,481

    Default

    Smile Empty Soul- Don't ever leave

  3. #4023
    Join Date
    Feb 2008
    Location
    Pen Island
    Posts
    5,545

    Default

    Konstantine - Something Corporate

  4. #4024
    Join Date
    Nov 2009
    Location
    United States
    Posts
    1,766

    Default

    gladiators - promise me

  5. #4025
    Join Date
    Feb 2008
    Location
    Pen Island
    Posts
    5,545

    Default

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ivPjfiz9dh0

    they're an old local band. haven't heard anything from their current incarnation

  6. #4026
    Join Date
    Jan 2010
    Location
    Unknown, Colorado
    Posts
    707

    Default

    Over My Head - Drowning Pool
    Forgiveness is a six gun, teach me how to shoot. The truth is like a moving target, forgiveness is a six gun.
    There is no forgiveness.

    Forgiveness Is A Six Gun - DevilDriver

  7. #4027
    Join Date
    Jan 2010
    Location
    Unknown, Colorado
    Posts
    707

    Default

    Turn So Cold - Drowning Pool
    Forgiveness is a six gun, teach me how to shoot. The truth is like a moving target, forgiveness is a six gun.
    There is no forgiveness.

    Forgiveness Is A Six Gun - DevilDriver

  8. #4028
    Join Date
    Mar 2010
    Location
    Somewhere in Tennessee
    Posts
    1,481

    Default

    Hamlet... I'm in Lit class....

    *pulls out her skull and funny hat*

    *strikes a pose*

    To be, or not to be: that is the question:
    Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
    The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
    Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
    And by opposing end them?—To die,—to sleep,—
    No more; and by a sleep to say we end
    The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
    That flesh is heir to,—’tis a consummation
    Devoutly to be wish’d. To die,—to sleep;—
    To sleep: perchance to dream:—ay, there’s the rub;
    For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
    When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
    Must give us pause: there’s the respect
    That makes calamity of so long life;
    For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
    The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
    The pangs of despis’d love, the law’s delay,
    The insolence of office, and the spurns
    That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
    When he himself might his quietus make
    With a bare bodkin? who would these fardels bear,
    To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
    But that the dread of something after death,—
    The undiscover’d country, from whose bourn
    No traveller returns,—puzzles the will,
    And makes us rather bear those ills we have
    Than fly to others that we know not of?
    Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
    And thus the native hue of resolution
    Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought;
    And enterprises of great pith and moment,
    With this regard, their currents turn awry,
    And lose the name of action.

  9. #4029
    Join Date
    Jan 2010
    Location
    Unknown, Colorado
    Posts
    707

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by Damage View Post
    Hamlet... I'm in Lit class....

    *pulls out her skull and funny hat*

    *strikes a pose*

    To be, or not to be: that is the question:
    Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
    The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
    Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
    And by opposing end them?—To die,—to sleep,—
    No more; and by a sleep to say we end
    The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
    That flesh is heir to,—’tis a consummation
    Devoutly to be wish’d. To die,—to sleep;—
    To sleep: perchance to dream:—ay, there’s the rub;
    For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
    When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
    Must give us pause: there’s the respect
    That makes calamity of so long life;
    For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
    The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
    The pangs of despis’d love, the law’s delay,
    The insolence of office, and the spurns
    That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
    When he himself might his quietus make
    With a bare bodkin? who would these fardels bear,
    To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
    But that the dread of something after death,—
    The undiscover’d country, from whose bourn
    No traveller returns,—puzzles the will,
    And makes us rather bear those ills we have
    Than fly to others that we know not of?
    Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
    And thus the native hue of resolution
    Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought;
    And enterprises of great pith and moment,
    With this regard, their currents turn awry,
    And lose the name of action.
    *blinks* Why can't I understand Hamlet?? *cries*
    Forgiveness is a six gun, teach me how to shoot. The truth is like a moving target, forgiveness is a six gun.
    There is no forgiveness.

    Forgiveness Is A Six Gun - DevilDriver

  10. #4030
    Join Date
    May 2010
    Location
    Indiana
    Age
    38
    Posts
    3,014

    Default

    All that remains - this calling

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