an feeling ever darkly creeps over me,
It spills out onto the city streets,
As the night draws down upon the suns lovely glow
The familiar feeling, quick to come and quick to go
Paranoia and madness quickly begin to show,

One with the moon, dash through the night
So quick to move, always out of sight
I awaken, under the shadow of darkness
The teeth shoot from my gums,
I begin to hunt, It's soon over,
Though the games have just begun

I find myself staring through a window,
A lovely woman sits alone,
Quietly humble, stiller than the oldest stones,
Her eyes fixed upon the screen, her favorite show
Our eyes met, just for an instant,
A moment in time of no relevance,
But played into the hands of her fate a great deal

Through the roof I enter the dank apartment complex
Mildew and alcohol soked into the panels,
I hear staticy programs on various channels,
The smell of blood and hopelessness reeks from the floors and walls
Coursing through the veins of those whose will to live continues to fall
I can feel the sorrow of the places inhabitants
So mundane and drab..
She won't be missed at all,

I track the smell of my lovely prey,
I knock upon her chamber door,
She says "Enter, if you may"
She appeared to be a sickly *****,
Who hadn't seen the sun in days
Who are you and why are you here"
she says in a dry, crackly voice
I don't mean to scare you, there's no need to fear
I respond, careful of my word choice
There's no need to fear, for your end is near,
And when I'm done, draining your blood,
I'll then soon disappear

She's fallen under my influence,
Drunk on the pressure of the souls,
Of a thousand nameless victims,

I give her my best smile,
As I bear down upon her neck,
I'll make this worth while,
Find some meaning in her death

I carry the burden of so many souls
gone, forever from the world,
By my hand, and teeth,
I can never justify the souls that I eat...

the best part of the champagne is the sound
effervescent spiky staticy tv on the wrong channel sound
(back when tvs could be on the wrong channel)
detuned radio's perverted whispers twisted 'round freaky frequency and amplitude sound

ah, the **** of this
somehow envibing makes the words pour out
that old cliche 'bout writers
where would we be without 'em
our toasts less profound, at least
ting ting ting

fewer songs to go with the crack of fireworks
groaning accordions
and all the other ancient anachronistic ephemera persisting
like us, persisting
for another round

there is such great art in this place we inhabit
but for a blink of a moment
it's on our walls, copied or true
it pours into our ears
it drums our heart
how can we not SCREAM
as I pass you in the street
drinking this in
soaking in sun
the places we're going may not be great
aren't great
but that BLEED of sound as we pass by each other
staticy howls of bliss
in THAT world
is where we should be
HOW are we HERE
instead
as the sun beats down
the cicadas purr and whine
and vision narrows but to a point
how are we here
when there is such great art
the moments past, I fear I've lost so much
of what could've been
on this track, my track
as it slows to a rumble
cars on rails
ba-dum... ba-dum...
till I sleep, till I face the eternal
nothing of note poured out these fingers
no art - no great art
and what was it for?
but to be a witness.

I see the world, sometimes
through a static filter
sometimes it seems unreal,
like a dream but I'm too aware
like lightheadedness but I don't feel like passing out

It's like I'm a machine
living on autopilot
like muscle memory but I'm conscious of what I'm doing
it's all scattered and blurry
and sometimes I feel like I'm not in my own body

It scares me,
scares me that I don't understand it
scares me that I can't control it
scares me that I don't know when it will happen
scares me how staticy it seems