In the blink of an eye of a hurricane, In the nick of time after time, In the heat of the night of the living dead, It is I for whom the bells chime.
In the midnight hour of decision, In the moonlit sky filled with stars, I am cut with a scalpelβs precision, My blood flows, but soon will be scars.
My only friends will betray me, My own words have a venomous taste, I can spit at those who would slay me, For Iβve outrun all the demons I chased.
In the blink of an eye of a needle, In the nick of time running out, Perhaps one more time I can wheedle, The voices within me to shout. Phil Lindsey 1/8/17