Passage Scarefilm
Take ten out of two, just like they told you at school...
warnings and instructions don't scare me, you didn't say me.
i'm killing for the buzz of a cheerleader lover to light me on fire,
push me out a window into the colorful thoroughfare
where all my friends die in a beautiful car crash.
suicide brides, moist and complete,
haunting the rails along one way streets,
telephone pole where the pervert perched
break away as the spirit of the machine distorts.
form at the wheel could have gone to the prom
with the jealous bit of jailbait twirling batons
but the living theater luck thief cut all the seatbelts,
now they're booby trapped in dreams and demanding a recount.
the shaded phantom from the ghetto
hides behind the fence and faints there.
three opponents haunt the museum.
men in scarefilms die twice a week all alone...
a ride in a machine could change everything...
we're doing the haunt, a flock of terminal lovefish,
thorazine ghosts ride girlbikes under the faucet.
time, space, speed, and less than total alertness
cause death when combined with a fatigued mind.
take time to think, to rest and refresh,
take ten out of two; eternal life is not now.
spylight, fatal stop, pre-trip inspection,
left front tire killed a family vacation.
just in case life is worthwhile for men who make beautiful products,
picture how their families miss them if able to build a new life.
cheerleaders die on the highway next to would be engineers
who could not see the next curve coming due to no instrument failure (look out!).
the dedicated trooper's seen it all before.
