Jeepers, creepers, here come hells reapers. You soul is mine, and, my dear, it 'tis no crime. The sun has gone down, now is the time, why not only frown, when we're in our prime? Listen to the peeps and creeks of our demented streets. Yes, we are freaks and we are not weak. We thrive on your screams and frightful dreams. The shadows, under your bed. You the ones who live in the sun and make fun, we are coming so start to run.
May 20, 2010