First You Don't Want Me To Get

Rather I'd Choose Laboriously To Bear A Weight Of Woes, And Breathe The Vital Air, A Slave To Some Poor Hind That Toils For Bread, Than Reign The Sceptred Monarch Of The Dead.

For I Am Yearning To Visit The Limits Of The All-nurturing Earth, And Oceans, From Whom The Gods Are Sprung.

A Glorious Death Is His, Who For His Country Falls.

Out Of Sight,out Of Mind

I Believe Children Are The Future...which Is Why They Must Be Stopped Now!