Ominous

 2H Dark Techno Industrial Bass Cyberpunk 

For gaming studying and training martial arts, both physically and mentally. 

Omm - I -- Nous, nousse the mousse 

au chocolat, trez bouche -- obfuse. 

Der House ist Kein Scluss noch Dr. 

Shooting the shota moons, for the loli 

shoes didn't walk a greenmile on pastures 

off abuse. Spiritus Sangre Real, loose; 

then Molotovs and Cocks entailed, set sail; 

blaring the glaring Witch Projects of Lich 

hour, scour, sweet, bitter and sour, soyourner. 

Gremlins and Gargoyles there attending Slytherin 

for the sleight of hand, and coy slander on Huffelpuff. 

As the spice wanted to "Ora et Labora" but let 

someone else do it, as Homer decreed. 

Southpark was too North-West, thus contest 

for the new Cat-Paw, to Fist Flanders to Grisham. 

The Rainmakers and Haybrokers wanted to erect

the church at the center stage, to have a Masse for Paris. 

For you cannot defent the Fleur du Lis, as the barbarians

are cumming on your flag and moral zeal. Liberte; Egalite; 

Fraternite -- muerte il grande niente, mourir du la verde! 

Maman les petit bateaux rouge. Qui wont sur l'eau, 

ont-ils des jambes? Des fete vos jeux rien ne vas merde!! 

Omm-I-Nous; Omniscious conscious Pluribus Unum 

Soli Deo Gracia Theou, contesting the frivolous clues, 

greek gifts, grifting uplifts, sidewinded wingmans wims;

how one empty suit could crue some automatons in Blue. 

The Print was on the sand via the red lines and fence sitting.

the Babysitter was eaten alive by Wednesday, having the 

hots for Fryday and Robinson Crusoe, who dreamt of 

being the New FatMan. The Disk what keeps on misgiving. 

Heartbroken in the unspoken rules and plotarmories coven. 

How many angles can you fit on a needles eye, while an 

angel tries to pull one white rabbit out of your assholed 

log file? I signed my metadata off, as Null.Oblivion.grp.dox 

Nothing to see here, nihil to seethe, Hare! The Turtle 

mowes on, with the juggernautilus to find some teen spirit 

to be the maiden in the wall, to keep the keys of Solomon, 

and the Civilisations 4th wall crumbling down the 

Dover-Bridges. Nightmares fared well, endared of the glare.

Nash was advocating for the Fischer Price. Grooming 

the groovy curvy and moody Mad Eyes disputing.

Did I really do 20 shots with the Sheriff, or did I drank 

the deputy under the booth, robodripping for checkmarks 

sake. Heaven was shut, so I huffed a mile to Nangiyala...