- published: 25 May 2016
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Year 7 (VII) was a common year starting on Saturday (link will display the full calendar) of the Julian calendar. At the time, it was known as the Year of the Consulship of Metellus and Nerva (or, less frequently, year 760 Ab urbe condita). The denomination 7 for this year has been used since the early medieval period, when the Anno Domini calendar era became the prevalent method in Europe for naming years.
Donald John Trump, Sr. (born June 14, 1946) is an American business magnate, television personality and author. He is the chairman and president of The Trump Organization and the founder of Trump Entertainment Resorts. Trump's extravagant lifestyle, outspoken manner and role on the NBC reality show The Apprentice have made him a well-known celebrity who was No. 17 on the 2011 Forbes Celebrity 100 list. He is well-known as a real-estate developer who amassed vast hotel, casino, and other real-estate properties, in the New York City area and around the world.
Trump is the son of Fred Trump, a wealthy New York City real-estate developer. He worked for his father's firm, Elizabeth Trump & Son, while attending the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania, and in 1968 officially joined the company. He was given control of the company in 1971 and renamed it The Trump Organization.
In 2010, Trump expressed an interest in becoming a candidate for President of the United States in the 2012 election. In May 2011, he announced he would not be a candidate, but a few weeks later he said he had not completely ruled out the possibility. In December 2011, Trump was suggested as a possible Vice Presidential selection by Michele Bachmann. Bachmann has since suspended her presidential campaign.
I threw your ring into the sea
Splashes reaching to heaven
To tell you the truth I won't miss it much
I threw my soul into the sea
Pretty girls make graves
Pretty girls make graves
I started to dream in the 3-D
Derail, discard, and drowning
Woke up to feel my stupid heart beat
I tore it out, it's just a piece of meat
Pretty girls make graves
Pretty girls make graves
If my feet could just get back on
The ground where they belong
I could walk back into my life
But I'm drifting through the darkness
Of a burnout every night
I just need to find someone
Who won't cost me my life
Atom bomb bikini
Soldiers marching through the waves
Towards another beached messiah
While pretty girls make graves
Pretty girls make graves
Pretty girls make graves
Pretty girls make graves