IRC-Galleria

I had a dream last night
And it would not end
You were a pain in the ass
So I killed your friend
But, and this I constantly tell myself
It was self-defence.

Maybe not the most excruciating death
But a death, nevertheless
It seems that the rage that is held in vain
Is the rage that one can't suppress
Through the folds of my mind
I received a black note
Not the one that goes 1/4
But the one that Devil wrote
It said: "belong to me and this nightmare will end
All you have to do is simply kill a friend"

But who's friend? The note would not say
And as I threw it on the floor it burned away
Later, at the Palace filled with a rich bouquet
You brought a friend who's doom was to be wed that day

Grinning, I spoke of certain matters
That are best left unrepeated
The more she came onto me
The more my humanity depleted
Her man was no Don Juan
And it was as though she would like for her fiancé
To find himself cheated upon.

I told her to come upstairs with me
There was something I'd like for her to see
Like a tormented, wailing banshee
- And on this every soul of a nightmare agrees
(At least to a certain degree)
I seduced this Jubilee.

The night was as dark as the depths of Hell
She told me that this was for no one to hear
And pleaded me not to tell
Of course, I agreed, because I already had a dear
And had no intentions whatsoever to adhere
Or to keep her alive, nor to bow for a tear
And lo, I grabbed the chandelier.

I woke up with sweat on my aching forehead
And a panic rose - was she really dead?
I dialed the number like a rushing dancer
And was terrified when there was no answer.

I pulled on my coat, ran out of my house
Jump-started my car as the tention rose
To her appartment I arrived at 4 a.m.
And only to find myself condemned
I saw her ghost in the window above, staring back
The door would not open, so I had to attack
It gave in with a crack
And to the bedroom I ran
Only to find my dear, beloved Suzanne
On the floor, cold and dead.

Although just a friend of a friend
My tears bled through
And all hope of ascending
Was lost to me, I could not comprehend
It was just a dream, right?

Now I know that there is no such a thing
As "just a dream", because dreams are true
And like an aggressive tattoo it grew on me
The fear and the hate and the lust for a replay
I had. To kill. Again.