"crockets" poems
The crockets are launched
The people are killed
Crits are ringing
Sentries are shooting
I know this, I was there
I'm not a dactor, not yet at least
I took spawn camping to the next level
It's true, they can confirm it
look it up yourself next gen spawn camping
I did it, you didn't (unless you were there)
it was at 11:00 this morning
yea
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC
Winter-welded hands to pockets
Midnight suburban Davey Crockets
Shuffling feets, thoughts on gold lockets
Meet nodders, speeders, window peekers
Out and about, we candid seekers
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 12:26 PM UTC