jihadi headhunter music for hi-fi
Tell me about exit wounds and the smell of flowers. I prefer Saturday in paperback. Cocktails for breakfast on the balcony of my top-floor space-age bachelor pad. I search the Sears and Montgomery Wards catalogs for a new sniper rifle. I fund my assassinations with money earned from pool cleanings and jewelry store robberies. An Asian woman dances in her underwear in front of my stereo. I suck her toes and lick her navel. We cuddle in the late morning and watch the palm trees burn.