Well, if I recall correctly, the Great Grindcore Drought of 1932 was in its third year, which I suppose would make it the Drought of 1929, or 1935, depending on which way you count. Turns out there were three hobos riding the rails from San Francisco to a destination yet to be determined. There was Matthew, the cantankerous six-stringer who would strum and strum until his fingers gave out, what with the polio and all. Andrew had several pots and pans which he arranged around him, thwacking upon them in a rhythmic fashion.
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i'm not gonna pay your final expenses
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you think you're metal. . .i used to eat bone marrow
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05-full body dry heave set to music
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04-all i see is teeth
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AllISeeIsT
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