Dave Bloxsom, Brandon Keegan, Benjamin Jones. Three worthless beings have composed expressive and negative music in between bouts of illness, insanity, and incarceration. The only one adored. Attempted suicide in 2003. Still we composed in our first year 140 lieder, in honor of our love. But my heart lectures have become vague and incomprehensible. Jumped into the Mississippi River to die, but still live years later and onward. Punk as fuck.

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