I woke up in a pool of sweat. First I thought that I pissed the bed. Haunted stories in the midnight hour. The Kiss of Death from the Eiffel Tower. . Then I went down, like the speed of sound.
He's a victim of his own time. In his vintage suit and tie. He's a casualty dressed to the teeth. In the latest genocide. The new seasons come and go.
He hit the ground running. At the speed of light. The star was brightly shining. Like a neon light. . It's your favorite son. It's your favorite son. .