This is insanity,
a late night tragedy,
a graveyard shift travesty,
a tour in moonlit fantasy,
words winding rapidly,
a something that's so sad to see
a place so bland and vapid
lifeless nothing, limp and lacking.
Still I'm tracking. All those wolves
still are packing, and no good
can come from passing
all this time with still no action.
All these rhymes, but still I'm lagging.
All these crimes will still happen
until I find what was lacking
from my side and fire wistful shots.
Alive from my acting up,
eyes so wide I've woken up,
tried and tired but not torn up,
wild and wired and acting tough.
Would you come and see me with the lights turned down?
Or should I shine a light? You'd grin and show up in my town.
See the glow and think a win, but heed to this I'll vow
to blow your misconceptions to the furthest they'll allow.
And out so far your beginnings will be
that no one in town will care to lead
you back to where you'll want to feed,
and when hunger pangs start suddenly
you'll try to fight it, but, you see,
when I've ignited so intensely
you'll wish you never did cross me.
