IRC-Galleria

Once there was a man whose head produces a voice, like a blanket of lead.
And when he started to comentate, a thousand thoughts would suffocate.

And once there was a man who stood, he nailed he's feet into the wood.
And when you try to circumscribe, you can't get past his diatribe.

One way, my way. What I say, goes!
My opinion is fact, and if you react, then it's gonna come to blows.

Once there was a man whose fist hung from his tongue, like a hideous cist.
And new ideas that might confllict, were beaten up by his retorict.