you have a gun pointed at you and blood on your hands
they ask you if it was you: if you've committed the crime, if you did the unthinkable, if you really are such a villain
and you are, you did, you have,
so you tremble, ready for the switch off that'll obscure your vision
you know you're guilty but still, you shake your head, scared
you renounce, you avoid their scrutinizing stare
you swear you deserve the dark but still, you hope you can escape
to go back into hiding, wash the blood from your hands and reshape