Six Million Ways To Play Dead

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John Carpenter “The Dead Walk”

Welcome to my nightmare
A magician’s trunk of headfuck for damn sure
Good luck tracking down the exit
This shit has no doors
And you’re odds on to regret this
As I fast forward to death stare
Then hit pause

Kind enough to rewind every time my eyes dilate
Screw your seventh heaven
I’ll upend it with hard eight
Eavesdrop on my dark side and you’re bound to feel the search light probing
Unaware there’s virus in the coding

Not to give you stage fright but I’ll place you on the spot
Open up a can of worms
Prefer to see you dig your own retirement plot
Enter at your own risk, it’s a motherfucking obelisk
Nothing second fiddle as I stack facts like a pyramid
Can riddle like a Sphinx and write your eulogy in hieroglyphs
Remove all vital organs from your item list

Inside my inner sanctum is a handsome spread of power tools
Fully charged
And by and large
Effective in the art of cruel demises
Keep one eye open sleeper or I’ll seep in through your tear ducts
Watch them weep then seal them shut
Fire up the blow touch
Cauterize it

Best not fear the reaper
I’m a far more stealthy creeper
On a night-time raid
With lifetime aim to make each pain run deeper
I’m a crimson tide of red rum
Poster freak for the dead stuff
Four poster on the bedlam
Did inform you it’s a headfuck
Would never bid restriction to the severing of arteries
If ever there’s a sickness
Then the leper’s in my artistry

Welcome to my nightmare
It’s a shame you cannot stay the course
Not to say you won’t be present
Way beyond those final thoughts
Not my fault I caught the germ within my mental trawler
Not my fault I’ve got a stack of hacked off limbs within my cooler
Not my fault the rack out back can make you ten feet taller
Not to blame for membrane spilled each time I give an order

Look into these eyes of mine
Recline in shade Cimmerian
Best not miss the trick slick
They don’t like it when you query them
Don’t you be a stranger or I’ll camp out in your widow chamber
Take the rein of every vein
Relace and interfere with them
Put it down to unashamed delirium

For good efficient butchery
I’ll gladly make a vacancy
Maybe the best bet would be to stay the fuck away from me
Regrettably, that ship has sailed
Prepare to have your coffin nailed
Consider this down payment for complacency

Specializing long stints
Your narrator plays curator
Exhibit number one
Do come
A most becoming display case awaits you
The word museum fits in mausoleum
Don’t you know
And there is no time like the present for a drop in
One more thing
You may well wish to call your next of kin
As most cruelly
This one is set to be a lock-in

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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