killing season divided he stands inhuman to the core he lashes away at life cause he feels he deserves a little more than the ordinary every day caged angels and freaks listen in his voice when he speaks hear it like the anger in the roar of the thunderous storm cloud but wicked is the weather that continues to rain down upon him light watered on him in a bad way and over them haters doing in today and now he sits in the dead of the night thinking of two ways to die but he can t get it right he s still alive proved killer by design he took the long road home but the road was closed no way home i suppose on the last hunt for the youth and the runaways kills his blood relatives in his murderous first grave long gone any moments when the heart is suppose to beat and there s no one home behind the walls of vacancy of his mind no matter what they do to me no matter what they say i can t do right i always go the other way they can t reach me i refuse to reason i am lost in my wicked mind and it s killing season it s been a wash ever since he was born and so he sits at home alone just trying to weather the storm hoping that the clouds will quit taking the form of a demon or a devil or an angel free fall he s like the spawn of a million hated souls in a downward spiral so out of control he lost the battle of life and couldn t have any kids with his wife and so he fucked her with a butcher knife there s nothing left but he stays alive to spite all the people that just wish he was down by sunlight but he ain t going nowhere until they re coming to get him so it s better to forget and just act like you never met him if the chance comes walk on the other side of the street because he just might be the last man you ever meet and if you let him he would do some of the evilest deeds and let your mind wander just for a second and you can see  confused she is given this little gift of life corrupted inside trackted by every mind she fights every force in her path she feels wrong but inside her situation couldn t be more wrong she presses on through the world every day with more rage and the pain is like a book and it s written across her face and the anger in her voice when she s letting the demons speak and being upset with herself after words of her being weak losing control tied to whatever little soul she retains minusing all of the portions she gave away to this point everything in her life has been pointless she s well in tune with feeling of disappointment she killed her true self back in the day and have never been the same since that selfish rage long gone any moments when the heart is suppose to beat and there s no one home behind the walls of vacancy of her mind 