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Click here to download the whole album! Re-issue of the final release from Long Island's punk/ska mainstays the Arrogant Sons of Bitches featuring glockenspiels, theremins, a full-blown concept and many more decidedly non-punk/ska things. This album took about four years to write, record and release in 2006 and that frustrating process eventually ended the band. Members went on to Bomb the Music Industry!, Jay Tea, Let Me Crazy, The Rocky Sullivans and college. 1. The Last Bell I Will Ever Hear Artwork by Twin Cuts So, Joe Bove, Mike Costa, Dave Dickerman, Sean McCabe, Sean Qualls, Jeff Rosenstock and JT Turret made this record. Steve Foote put a lot into recording and mixing this thing. God bless him, yo. Alan Douches of West West Side Mastering mastered this record and apparently came down with a wicked cold immediately after. Sorry, Alan! Jeff wrote the songs and the words and stuff and then everybody said what they thought and now the songs sound better. Chris Baltrus actually wrote most of the music on track 9 and track 10. Track 10 was also written by Steve Connolly, and this was like back in 1998. Seriously. Dave McWane appears on track 9 courtesy of Big D and the Kids Table. Stu Parnes played tuba on this, James Lynch played upright bass and Bill from the Superspecs lent us his baritone sax. We sang the gang vocals and so did Jenna Beatty, Marie Capasso, John DeDomenici, James Doyle, Renee Jorisch, Christine Mackie, Dave Ringel, Joe Werfelman, Chris Valentino, some members of Dave Dickerman's extended family and some dudes from some band who busted in on our recording session. The cover photo was taken by Joelle Andres. The artwork was put together by Jeff Rosenstock for Twin Cuts. Our band has not been used to help from people, so having a thank you list that doesn't consist of "mom, dad, girlfriends" is kinda new to us. So first off we would like to thank of parents for being surprisingly supportive of our obnoxious music. We would also like to thank our friends, girlfriends and other family for putting up with us having to leave all the time and coming back expecting drinks. Everyone in Big D and the Kids Table deserves a hug the next time you see them. Sorry to the staff at the Downtown for getting laid off a few months ago, most of you have been pretty nice and responded better to our bullshit than most other places. Andy and Ethan of Kill Normal have the patience of saints. Nori and Graham at Dude Records are probably the finest dudes in Japan. Oh yeah, thanks to Beret!, Backseat Conceptions, Code of tha Cutz, Asbestos Records, Arielle Bilelak, Chris Candy and Middagh Goodwin for helping us sneak on to the Warped Tour two years ago. Streetlight Manifesto, The Know How, I Voted For Kodos, One Fan Band, Catch-22, The Suicide Machines, Suburban Legends, iMusicast, Studio Seven, Chris Murray, Murphy's Kids, Jackmove, Ben from Knoxville, The Ninjas, Odd Arnie, Westbound Train, Never Heard of It, Destruction Made Simple, Taj Motel Trio, Long Shot Hero, Mustard Plug, Rick Johnson Rock and Roll Machine, The Keepaway, High School Football Heroes, The Fad, The Superspecs, Patent Pending, Jade Fire, Harold's Trousers and the Flaming Tsunamis have all showed us the best time a band could see on the road and/or bummed us smokes while we were home and broke. I can't imagine we remembered 20% of the people who have supported us the past few years, so sorry we forgot to let you see your name in print. So that's it, guys. Thanks for sticking it out with us, we hope you enjoyed it. Oh yeah, Mike uses Pro-Mark sticks. Thanks, Pro-Mark. The biggest possible thanks go to Steve Foote for working harder than anyone I've ever seen so we could have a good sounding album. The second biggest thanks go to Algernon Quashie for working his ass off on the first recording of this and not getting mad when we had to re-record it because we played it badly. This album is dedicated in loving memory of Lauren Connolly and Jay Bennett whose names I'm sure I misspelled thus undoing this dedication. Sorry, you two. We love you and miss you more every day. It also goes out to Dan Lang-Gunn, without whom this would NOT be possible. Keep fightin', dude. You're not missing much... just bad emo. |
please note "Arrogant Sons of Bitches" in the subject or body of your donation.
LYRICS AND EXPLANATIONS!!!Non-liner notes from 2009: I just finished hand typing all of these liner notes and lyrics 'cause I hadn't had them saved. I will not bore you with too many particulars but I feel like it would be a re-issue without something a little extra? So I will say that listening back to this (after not doing so for about three years) that I'm still pretty proud of it and not even horribly embarrassed by most of the lyrics (maybe "the winter knocked on my door like a selfish bitch" is pretty bad)... also what a good job Steve did recording and what a good job Alan did mastering. Shit! So I guess aside from that I'll only tell two very short stories about the recording of this record. First of all, let's get off the subject. Steve likes to smoke a lot of pot and put a ton of reverb and delay on Pro Tools sessions for fun. This makes him an excellent person to hang out with all the time. Anyway, many nights at Moontower ended with a lot of pot (which was funny 'cause we were never really that kind of band), us playing the South Park N64 game and drinking beer from the vending machine in the studio (labeled "Duff" and "Fudd") until we passed out. Another fun thing to think about is that we recorded the timpanis and Christmas bells (which I still don't know the official name of) at East Meadow High School, where Sean had graduated years earlier... I think he even skipped his last exams while we were on tour. So whenever you hear a bell think about a bunch of dudes in their early twenties, smoking cigarettes, running around with computers and microphones and cursing while other high school classes were in session. I'm not even certain we had permission to be there. When this record was released we played three CD release shows that were to hopefully jump start the band or us being friends again after a slightly nasty fallout. At the end of the third one we all wanted to hang out and get a beer together, but we were obligated to sign like 200 posters for some fucking pre-order special that merch direct did. As we sat around signing shit instead of actually enjoying our accomplishment that we spent fucking YEARS on, spending time with our friends and relaxing... well, at that point I think we all knew that this was never gonna be a band again 'cause this is what being in this band would be like. I'm really happy to say we're all still buddies and definitely happy to see each other if we haven't for a while. And I'm pretty happy that after all this time, I'm still pretty pumped on this record. Liner notes from 2005: An embarrassing factoid about this record is that we've been trying to put it out for four years, thinking it was coming out and then having it fail, re-recording it, having My Chemical Romance release a hit album with almost the same exact album title and now we're pretty psyched it's finally here. So let's chat a little bit, shall we? We were psyched that Steve Foote had offered to record us in Boston over the summer of 2004. His band had been on the Warped Tour on and off, and whenever he was home we drove up to Boston in our van, got a lot of parking tickets and lived in sleeping bags in Moontower Studios in Allston. We didn't even shower and it was kinda gross, and I'm not even sure we were supposed to live there, but about a month or so later we had 95% of a record. The great thing about Moontower was the bookshelf was filled with random instruments and we did our best to have them all somewhere on the album, even if it was shit that we didn't know how to use like the Kaos Pad. So back to that 95%... there were one or two parts that we didn't have time to do up in Boston, so I recorded some sax, percussion and vocal parts in various bathrooms, bedrooms and friends' practice spaces. One thing worth noting was that the gang vocals were recorded in a party atmosphere. We got a case or two of beer, invited all of our friends down and we had a very difficult time getting things done, but I still feel like it's important for a band to actually have a good time on a record... even if that meant some slurring. Original liner notes from 2003: What I remembered is that when I wrote this album that it was less a series of complaints and a stream of anger than it was a story about something I feel we all go through when we finally get out of high school and we are inundated with the feeling that we're free from rules. We don't have the teacher forcing us to go to class anymore. We are not a part of the system we all hated. Years later, I am still having trouble dealing with the fact that I am still part of the system that we all hated. The truth is the minute you feel you're breaking free of the big thing that is holding you down, you're already locked up again. Advertising. Finances. Friendship. Love. Life is business. I tried to avoid all the bullshit, I tried to be a musician and all I heard from my "people" was negativity. Ska is dead. Lose the horns. Tame the chaos. Drop the "fuck"s. If you do each of these things you will be successful financially. You will be commercially viable and saleable to record labels and corporations. They would shoot me down whenever I said that those things did not concern me. There were a thousand bands who would drop their convictions in three seconds if they were offered ten thousand bucks. We weren't one of them so people moved on to other acts. So there we were, and that's where we are now. Unwelcome in our underground because our underground actually ended up being a system. Live everything else. I had always figured that the underground would be the one place we could break away from that system but thanks to MTV commodifying punk rock, this has been taken away from us. So I would like to invite you, the listener, the reader, to create a new underground. One where we actually don't have to follow any sets of rules. One where we don't have to be controlled by anyone but ourselves. This is an album about breaking out of that old system. hope you enjoy it fucker. The Last Bell I Will Ever Hear Well, I lied to you again. I said I wanted to be friends and I said that it would never end but I was out before it began. I bit my nails and wrote away, I had been waiting for the day that it was the end. The clouds, grey and covering the sky, barely let the sun slip by at about 2:05. Everyone was starting to cry. There's nothing that needs more explaining. YOU CAN'T RUN MY FUCKING LIFE ANYMORE!!! I'm going home tonight to tear your pictures off the wall and I won't spend another night waiting for your precious telephone call. I won't feel sorry for anything I do because I live this life for me, not you! Don't think that I'm gonna call you tomorrow to remember the days gone past. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... IT'S OVER! and you can kiss my ass and if I never see you again that'll be too soon. (I Must Be a Proctologist Because) All I Do is Deal With Assholes Contrary to what you think and what you've seen on MTV, you don't have to be an asshole all the time. Watch me as I take this knife out my back to cut wrists and throat. I'll laugh, bleed to death, choke. I've been used for all I'm worth, can't feed your ego anymore or be that friend who would take a shot for you. Why not do one fucking thing that isn't for your fucking self? You'll cry and I'll laugh at you 'cause I'll be gone tomorrow and you'll look into the mirror and you'll lie when you say you care. "I can't believe he's gone for good." Don't kid yourself, you were never there for me. Complacently, you downtalk to me and all the kids agree you're irreverent as you feign respect for me. Anger and pressure builds up inside of me, I'll explode and you'll fake a frown. Are you happy now? Yeah, you got what you wanted, you got your third second chance and saved the fifteen dollars out of your pocket. My last will and testament will claim you shall get stoned to shit at my big funeral, 'cause I'll be gone tomorrow. You'll talk to your new shiny friends and you'll lie when you claim to care. "Let's have a toast to our old friend." Go fuck yourself. I won't waste my time there. And it's so easy to just give up. So Let's Go Nowhere The autumn came in like concrete at my face. Location hasn't changed but we're not living in the same place. It's useless to respond (respond) to anything I've said I've said. I hate to quote this song all wrong, but "Why Can't We Still Be Friends?" You're trying to upset me but you're just baffling me with your actions. I am wrong. You are wrong. We subdivide into two factions. It's made me retarded and I wish I didn't let it. Everything is upside down. I want those times I can't forget and everything is always falling apart. You know, I'd amputate my flaws if it meant that I could be with you. How can I be so self-important in the world today? My dis-ease of choice will be arriving soon anyway. We justify our selfishness in every fucking fight and I hate to quote this song all wrong, but "It Doesn't Make It Right." Fuck the world. Everything is breaking and changing and everything inside of me is breaking and changing. Why can't I ever let it go? If I concentrate real hard I might not ever even know that everything is always falling apart and I'd ignore my dreams in exchange for you being true. It's gonna rain tonight so everything is miserable. Smoke some more, and then I'll go back in and hate. It's gonna rain tonight but it's gonna stop eventually. Let's anticipate the sun and warmth and raise our fists and say: EVERYTHING IS ALWAYS FALLING APART BUT I CAN'T. Fell fast asleep, woke up so easily. Let's make our dreams transcend reality. Let's not just seethe, give up and go back to sleep. Wake up. Don't fall apart. Kill the President What's the bullshit for? Verbal battlefield, syllables of war. I shut myself off and it happens again. You're not my friend, you're not my friend, you're not my friend. The winter knocked on my door like a selfish bitch. I'm glad that you haven't got your wish, 'cause in the cold all alone I've been thinking of everyone but you. And it feels like seventh grade again and none of this will ever end. I'm just your public malcontent, another extraneous trend. Don't try to be like me because I'm not one to compete just to obtain the status of a symbol of idolatry. This time I'd really rather be alone. Can we forget this? I can just go home. This time I'd really rather be alone. Acting unaffected by this of hand of fate, saying "Everything's OKAY!!!" with a straight face. I remember when you said I could count on you for anything... and I still hold on but you'll hold off and play another dumb charade again. I'm driving my car home and never walking in the rain again. I miss the smell of Taco Bell and places that we knew too well. It's driving my crazy. This time I'd really rather be alone. Can we forget this? I can just go home. This time I'd really rather be alone. I'm bleeding profusely from my insides, while you're smiling 'cause you're stealing all of my lines. I'm doubling over and I'm taking my own side. Over and over again, I'm so useless. Now you're becoming everything. Well, was I ever anything? Everyone I love always hates me. My judgment's been off every time. Your words will always still be mine. And I'll be slapped on crowded streets, and in some lame cry of defeat I'll open up and shout it loud, "Fuck that! Turn off the new sound." Over and over again, I'm so useless. Now you're becoming everything. Well, was I ever anything? Everyone I love always leaves me. My judgment's off this time for the last time. For the last time. What's left beside me now? No one in this world is ever listening. Pay attention now. At home alone again all night. Expect the worst and you'll be right. People Pops and Fudgesicles for the Hit Factory I'm sorry that you've all gone soft. Are advance apologies required now for pissing you off? I'll deny all of this to your face. Quit claiming to be indie rock because you aren't independent and your rock and roll's fucked. I'll get the coffin, you supplied your own hammer. We'll put a nail in it, I hope the scene can fit. We'll throw it in the pit as a sacrifice for middle-aged men and screaming girls. Your scene is full of shit so start killing it. Don't be the hypocrite. The last teary-eyed, thrift store mope star in the world. A victim of the latest hoax. The iconoclasts have lied and you're not in on the joke. Prove they're not what they claim to be (your money, they're gonna get your money.) Criticize all that I've said, 'cause if I wasn't so pretentious I'd cash in on the trend, do lines, double fist pills and O.D. Stop singin' it! Stop singin' it! You're too serious! How can you crack a smile if you can't laugh at yourself? You think you're legit but you're just the idiot. Here's how to deal with it, bring the asshole and the douchebag level down. I'm not a part of your scene where fashion meets choreography. (your haircut is stupid, your pants are uncomfortable, you systematically plan every awkward forced guitar spin, your emotion is a joke, your emotion is a joke, your emotion is bullllllfuckingshit) (all your favorite bands do coke. sorry.) Stop singing that shit we're tired of it. Stop singing it, oh, stop singing it. Kick the baggage and the ego to the ground. Stop singing that shit we're tired of it. Stop singing, oh, so I can kick the rotting carcass of your sound. RocketRocketRocketship Exhausted all the things I've loved and tortured myself. Can I just be happy? When everybody jumps on everything I said and everybody's telling me that we're best friends, I'd rather be dead or dying. So someone cut me a check cashed for all that I'm worth, divide it by what I've spent and calculate my new worth. I never got nothing for anything. I feel I've done everything for nothing. And maybe we can fly away from here. You were wrong. I'll buy the farm tonight. I'd like to spend time where no one can see me. I'm pissing down the cracks of a broken dream: UNITED WE CAN MAKE OUR OWN DESTINY! Come on, nobody's with me. Just send me off with a check cashed for all that I'm worth, and I'll say I'll feel better but I'll really feel worse. I never feel like feeling anything. I only feel everything for nothing. We're breaking down while breaking in. 1-800-ALARM-ME I woke up today to think about a dream I had, a dream I left so far away. Ten seconds pass. And as I think, twenty minutes pass. I've failed my mission. I'm a waste of life, a waste of mind. Where's my ambition. Chalk up one girlfriend + two broken cars + my band + friends are nothing more than parting shots not taken. Look how jaded I can be! When I turned sixteen I already felt to old to be in this entire scene of sighing lazily at unaccomplished dreams. Yeah, it's my home but I think it's time to go. I'll hit once more so I don't wake up. I got no home and I got nowhere to go. I just can't seem to get on top of this situation normal all fucked up. Still, I lay in bed and think of all the dreams I've had and clever remarks I have said. It seems like they all mean nothing. Snooze. Alarm reset. That's eight more minutes. This disaster can't exist because I'm not awake to live it. I can't seem to place where life went wrong. It's the wrong chords. It's one lame song. I never know the exist to get off at 'til it's passed. Kick me in the ass. A free shot. Get it over with and kick me until I bleed. It seems that's all you need. Let's go! This one's on me! I don't think I'm going outside today. I'll stay in bed all day. Declare a personal holiday. So you can take my page right out of your phonebook. Burn my seven digits to ashes. I won't be awake in any of your classes. Light another smoke as this day passes. I don't think I'm going outside today. I'll stay in bed all day. Declare a personal holiday. So you can take my page right out of your phonebook. Burn my seven digits to ashes. I won't be awake in any of your classes. Eyelids are the sky as this day passes. I wanna stay asleep forever. I've Got Enemies in High Places Stop!!! Because I know just what you're doing. I've decoded all the lines of encryption I've been fed. Stop!!! Your fucking superpowers aren't working. I won't suck you off to get something I want, I'll give up instead. So please stop thinking for me, stop looking out for me and just because I'm paranoid does not mean you're not after me. You: awash in a sea of pretention. You've got names to drop and bands to cash in on in your underground. Me: Apparently, music's none of my business. Aesthetic disease and enemies in high places to keep me down. So please stop thinking for me, stop looking out for me and just because I'm paranoid does not mean you're not after me and I was never on the team so don't try to play ball with me and don't think I give two shits what you think is best for me and my career because I don't. Try to ignore me, but I'll be the scar that won't go away. - "Turn down the horns or you can't be emotional." Well my demeanor's inexplicable because the moment you expose your boredom we become expendable and I'll defy your scene where every band is interchangeable. The image you've commodified is not your own. Understand I'm doing something different because I'm capable and I do it 'cause I like it and I like it because you don't. Shut your mouth about it, no one wants to hear about it, music's an artistic statement, you don't have to speak for it and I was never on the team so don't try to play ball with me. Don't think I give two shits what you think is best for me and my career. Disappointment at the Taco Bell Clock is tickin' and my shelf life is up. Wrong side of the tracks, wrong side of the fence, wrong thing that I lack, I lack common sense. My life. This is all I know and I've got no time, I've got no mind, I've got nowhere to go. Can't live in this world of a nine to five. You can have your fifteen minutes I'll get my whole life. My life. This is all I know and I've got no time, I've got no mind, I've got nowhere to go. Career tests all came back inconclusive. All that I can give is a half asses attempt at being like you. I'm not normal like you. There's nothing I can say that I haven't said 5,000 times. You've got your way to live and I've got mine. There's nothing to say. I've said it 15,000 times. Kiss it goodnight, kiss me goodbye. You think it never hurts? All the confusion? All the itches in my nerves and all the hate in my blood? My blood. This isn't what I need. Occupational conformity won't put my mind at ease, no. Clock is tickin' and my shelf life is up and all bets have been placed for when the wheel is gonna stop, it's gonna stop, it's gonna. This is what I need. Yeah. Yeah. This is life and this is love and this is my release. Yeah. It pains my soul to separate like this but I guess that's how it is. I'll leave myself to mine. Our paths can't cross now. I wish I had one more chance now. There's nothing I can say that I haven't said 5,000 times. You've got your way to live and I've got mine. There's nothing to say. I've said it 15,000 times. Kiss it goodnight, kiss me goodbye. It's been a year or two since we've communicated. So don't tell me that you're one to trust or believe in. I'll believe nothing. I will not trust anyone again. My brain is twitching and I still can't give up. I've gone far off the course but I guess I'm never gonna stop. The clock is tickin'. Sorry, I've got no more shelf life for ya, baby. Time bomb's tickin', I'll commence blowing up. I'll construe your rejection as a lack of trust. You won't love me once I'm washed up. I'm all washed up and I can't trust no one. Piss Off I remember way back when when I wanted you to be mine and now that I kind of had I wonder was it all just a waste of time and did it make sense jumping into something knowing that I'd get hurt? I don't know, but my boss thinks not it makes me less productive at work. And all my friends told me to look out 'cause you were treating me like shit. And I swallowed my pride and bit my tongue and I thought nothing of it. And I blame the whatevership's termination on why things are never fine. And I dreaded this moment from the day that we met but I have to say goodbye. Now all I do is drink and smoke with all my friends. I regret not moving on even though I said I did, yeah, blah blah, how many times do I have to call you just because you called me first? You see, we're nothing together but a bunch of obligations that just make me feel worse. And why am I the last to know when you ride some other guy? And why should I have even cared that night you said you cried? Well, my stomach threw up my daily nutrition and your antimorals robbed me blind. Well, I love you and you blew it and you broke your own heart so eat this last goodbye. And all that money we blew on each other did it mean so little that you could just find another to replace me, my whatever, I mean, piss off, go to hell. When can I get over this stop hating myself? And as the day goes on I'll find someone better. I'll go it alone and brave the cold weather through these blizzard-like conditions screaming (if I'm still alive), "Piss off! This is the last goodbye!" Have Fun Rotting By Yourself I'm takin' the last train home tonight. I'm drinking but I can't get drunker than this. I'm going home alone again with a checklist of my ex-best friends and a headache the size of your little white lies, blood dripping from my head into sore black eyes. Place my brain between my hood and the vent. Walk home from the station, no friends. Killing time by killing myself slowly. Drugs and booze and tobacco companies own me. You said you never meant any harm, but you meant what you did. Now I'm hurt, you're alarmed. I'm a replaceable picture in your house, I'm a dispensable character from your past. I'm not feeling safe, come on, pick up the fucking phone. I can't accept when this night ends I'm going home alone. I'M RUNNING FAR AWAY FROM MY PROBLEMS. I'M NOT WAITING FOR YOU TO DECIDE WHAT TO PACK. I'M NOT TALKING CALIFORNIA. THERE'S NEVER BEEN A BETTER TIME TO GET OUT OF AMERICA AND I WILL GIVE MY LAST SO LONG SUCKERS AND I'LL WRITE DOWN GOODBYES ON THE BACK OF OLD POST-ITS AS I EXIT AND DIE. RESPECT THE FACT THAT YOU WILL NOT BE SEEING ME AGAIN NO MORE WHITE FLAGS I SWEAR THIS TIME WE'RE NEVER GONNA TALK AGAIN BECAUSE IT'S ME VERSUS THEM. "Yeah, I Don't Know What It's Like to Be Around a Bunch of Hipsters." Hey again, I hope you know you ruined my life. The bitterest words are never quite sincere. But I gotta tell you one thing: it's all the same to me. It's in my blood and you don't feel the flow. I sat there, ignoring the ever-present real world, wondering why people have to change all the time and about those who shift with the trends. Well, we both know I know better than to point the blame at somebody else but myself, so I'll put these words on the shelf with pictures of old friends. I can sit and ask myself what I'm doing wrong but I'm right this time. These are my convictions that you're tearing down. I won't sell out, even though it's all anyone in this world thinks we're good for now. She's not with us anymore. I sat there feeling frustrated. The autumn sky was rapidly turning to dusk and I'm feeling so fucking alone in this world. You won't believe me when I tell you, but everything that I respect is absent in you. So go shut me out and shut up as this scene rages on. I can't decide what to do with people like you. I can't take it on the chin 'cause these are my convictions that you're tearing down. I won't give up even though it's all anyone in this world thinks we're good for now. He's not with us anymore. I'm not changing for the world. (there's a time to let it go, when it comes I'll let you know) I take this mental anguish, fist thrown at my head. Because I'm right this time. Yeah, I'm right this time. I'm so right this time. These are my convictions that you're tearing down. I won't give up even though it's all anyone in this world thinks we're good for now. He's not with us anymore. I'm not changing for the world. I'm not changing for the world as we go! go! go! go! go! fists first to the world. Your concrete morals mold life's prison cells and with fashion as warden, you're prisoners in hell in your world. Rot in hell in your world. I'm not changing for your world. Last on My List I wish I could be mad and break something. You solved my problems like it was your job. Bad times for everyone today. I only wish this could be your pen across the page. Miniature golf cannot be played This summer started off me pacing in a room Bad times for everyone today. I only wish this could be your pen across the page. Like everybody else, I have my own shit list and Now I'm in this fucking van (i won't forget your face / don't forget this) howilongtoshareeternallifewithyouhowilongtoshare-eternallifewithyouhowilongtoshareeternallifewithyo-uhowilongtoshareeternallifewithyouhowilongtosha-reeternallifewithyouhowilongtoshareeternallifewith-youhowilongtoshareeternallifewithyouhowilongtos-hareeternallifewith... and i only wish it could be your pen across the page and i only wish this could be your song for you to sing and i only wish that it was me in the car that day. I only wish that you said goodbye before you went away then you could tell me how to get through these days. If we had just another day, "how i long to share eternal life with you" -- lauren connolly |
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