Lurking in the dark 
Smell of tree bark 
The dark ones wait 
For the taste of bait 
Innocence is their bliss
Swallowing into their abyss 
The dark ones are out 
Hoping for us to get off route 
Slimy, dusty, smelly, death 
Their perfume is meth 
We mustn't fall into their trap 
So the lightside won't be a gap
So the lightside won't be a gap
Comments
Post a Comment