Why are the lyrics to the MASH theme so relatable

Vermilioncore

Vermilioncore

𝕯𝖝𝕯 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖜 • pioneer of the GhostfacePill
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I thought that show was for boring old farts in their rocking chairs, why’s it got lyrics that seem like they were written by baraka mkray or Oreo man @manletmachinestream @therewillbeblud

 
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I remember when you spammed the lyrics
 
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It was a gloopy nochy, dark as a devotchka’s secrets, and Schery6 was viddying the world through slooshy pods stuffed with synth. He’d just done his bit of the ultra-poddy shuffle, all skorry and full of the old razz-dazz, not knowing the doom creeching behind him like a millicent in hushy boots.


There stood Blckgymmx, tall like a bolshy tree and cold in the glazzies, all filled with the old malchick fury. No words, no chelloveck's warning, just a shove—oomph!—right on the gulliver and Schery6 was off, flying like a veck in slo-mo through the black.


Down he went, down onto the tracks, his litso lit up for a split tick by the train’s lights, all red and orange like a fiery starburst of sin. Then—vroomcrashbang!—the iron beast did its deed, slicing and dicing as if it were the old in-out-in-out but with metal and shrieks instead of flesh and moans.


Blckgymmx stood over the edge, peeting the mess he'd made, all calm and sinny, like it were a work of art. No remorse, no govoreet, just turned on his heelyboots and vanished into the nochy, leaving only the scent of oil, blood, and ultraviolence in the air.
 
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Reactions: Vermilioncore
It was a gloopy nochy, dark as a devotchka’s secrets, and Schery6 was viddying the world through slooshy pods stuffed with synth. He’d just done his bit of the ultra-poddy shuffle, all skorry and full of the old razz-dazz, not knowing the doom creeching behind him like a millicent in hushy boots.


There stood Blckgymmx, tall like a bolshy tree and cold in the glazzies, all filled with the old malchick fury. No words, no chelloveck's warning, just a shove—oomph!—right on the gulliver and Schery6 was off, flying like a veck in slo-mo through the black.


Down he went, down onto the tracks, his litso lit up for a split tick by the train’s lights, all red and orange like a fiery starburst of sin. Then—vroomcrashbang!—the iron beast did its deed, slicing and dicing as if it were the old in-out-in-out but with metal and shrieks instead of flesh and moans.


Blckgymmx stood over the edge, peeting the mess he'd made, all calm and sinny, like it were a work of art. No remorse, no govoreet, just turned on his heelyboots and vanished into the nochy, leaving only the scent of oil, blood, and ultraviolence in the air.
Nah tf outa here with your fan fiction fat shitskin or I’ll drop you in some tar happ6 Halloween 🎃
 
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