I watch from the shadows as she passes my alley.

Silently I approach, it doesn't matter though.

She'd never hear me over her walkman.

When I'm close enough, I attack at the jugular.

Okay, I know. It's cliched but it's not my fault.

I picked it up from all of those great silent
films I used to watch back in the Twenties.

I'd probably have stopped draining her blood by
now, if she were still alive.

Unfortunately I was quite sloppy when I attacked.

Broke her pretty little neck. It's a shame really.
She was rather beautiful.

When I'm finished, I gently lower her body to
the ground.

I killed her, but that's no excuse for being rude.

As I retreat back into the shadows from whence I
came, I can still hear Pink Floyd pouring
from her radio.

It's night
The time when the angels fly

When Death and Satan are nearby
A time of darkness and bitterness

No compassion, nor forgiveness.

A time of lost hope

A scary curtain of smoke
Silent the leaves against the window

The bugs crawling down below
As the bats are flying by

A feeling as if you're gonna die.

And then instant, there he is

A shaky hand
A bloody kiss
We're going to nowhere's land.

The sight of nothing
Deep inside

And something's rotting
You smeel it allright
Well, It's a hell of a night.

And It's night
The time when the Vamps fly...
...

A violent world has over taken,
all that was true, now is shaken.

Alas I've gazed upon it all,
all along it's graceless fall.

now the greed obscures the light.
The tragic fall from grace,
of reason, time, and space.

All surrendered their most dear,
paid their ways with falling tear.
Lost much more than ever gained,
realations died, feelings drained.

recounts of fallen dreams, pointless trips.
Where was the muse is such time of need,
driven distant by filth and greed.

smothered 'neath the smoky haze.