I Don’t Even Have To Hope You Go To Hell.
With That Evil Grin
Come Lurking Around The Corner.
And I Don’t Feel The Need To
Sell Myself To You.
Turning On The Screw.
So I’m Just.
And Just Keep On Writing
Underneath The Ladder.
Old Timer, Turn The Volume Down.
Pages Turn, Yet Here I Burn.
Never One To Be Part Of This World.