Panthers! Pow! Pow!

if i die in a car crash call it sculpture, the brash result of a failed suicide. 
im the makeout king of valhalla and the brooding son of a gun. 
cant fault the drummer if hes got none. you never gave him some. 
come on, come on, bring it back around. come on, come on, i dare you to get down. get off. kiss yourself.