His father was a drinker, and his mother cried in bed..
Folding John Wayen's T- Shirts, when the swig sett hit his head..
The neighbors they adored him for his humor and his conversations..
Look underneath the house there, find a few living things running fast in their sleep of the dead..
Twenty seven people, even more they were boy's with their cars, summer jobs...oh my god!.....uuuuhh....are you one of them?...
He dressed up like a clown for them, with his face paint white and red..
On his best behavior, in a dark room on the bed he kissed them all...
He killed ten thousand people, with a slide of his hand..running far running fast to the dead..
He took off all their cloths for them, he put a cloth on their lips, quiet hands..quiet kiss on the mouth.......
On my best behavior..I am really just like him..
Look beneath the floor boards for the secrets I have hid...
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