Tue
Jan
24
And Verily, how the birds shrieked. That melody itself hath been tainted, that rhythm hath been murdered while it slept at peace in it’s bed, that every soft lilt of a voice hath been tarnished by the hellfire Nicki Minaj wrought upon us all. Great musicians wept from the beyond. Lyricists punctured their eardrums under the steely grip of insanity. Even the lowly makeup artist, dost cut off their hands in shame. Music—in all it’s forms and phases—dost regurgitated upon itself. And low, the people cried out, “WHY?!”
