He gave us the beat, that sang along with our hearts, crashed the cymbals that brought us to our knees. He came from, a murder scene, and was a part of a Black Parade, which he welcomed you to, sporting a uniform with the rest of his comrades. Touched hearts with a bass drum, and rattled our brains with sticks. Those sticks saw millions, and millions of screaming people, not in terror or in pain, but in respect and love, and fueled the adrenaline junkies with his bangs-and-booms, and gave us something to look at, while gerard was in darkness and Frank, Ray, and MIkey were jamming away. His name was Bob, and he was that of an enigma in the blooshot eyes of the MCRMY. We wish you luck Bob, and will miss you dearly, Love the MCRMY
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