the streets were covered with an illusion
a vast amount of clothes we sent from the Orient in a box...
puzzled look by some passerby's
covered emblems with dashing brilliance

beneath the earth the creatures do dwell
but I have a good story to tell
the box came from the outer banks of Hell
legend has it stored in columns of writings

there was a fir trapper in line for a new position...
he was an important socialite & wanted to start a new conversation,
over a period of time he showed his face

tiny eyes with a big head with a bullet hole inside...
he was shot by accident from his uncle
yet he survived the whole ordeal
he brought up the story of the box

that night he fell into a deep sleep
only to awake to feeble minded mutants running through his head...
calling him further & wanting him dead
he lay puzzled and dismissed the whole event,

later in the morning when he arose
out the dead smack in the road was a mutant...
the fir trapper drew nearer to look
it grabbed a hold of his leg and bit him
days would pass having no reason to grasp

the trapper fell really ill & turned into a zombie mutant...
the streets got word & shot the man dead
but that wasn't the end quite yet
lest ye forget the box now in lock & chain

it suddenly opened and the streets were filled with these mutants once again
no one had a cure for the were all doomed
until the uncle from the late fir trapper appeared with a silver bullet able to **** mutants...

he loaded his gun and one by one they lay dead...
what was going on inside his head
but that was the end my friend