Dreading Sunday -- 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;and the blurry Monday after
hit for hit
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;and blow by blow
one, two punch
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; of a broken, shattered world
I dread Sunday
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;and though I be not superstitious 
I can't help feeling
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;the notion of things in threes
murders
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;fires
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; fill in the blank
what will Sunday bring
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I dare not think