Demon Hunt

The night is black without a moon The air is thick and still The vigilantees gather on, The lonely torchlit hill Features distorted in the flickering light Faces are twisted and grotesque Silent and stern in the sweltering summer night The mob moves like demons posessed Quiet in conscience, calm in their right Confident their ways are best They say there are strangers who threaten us In our immigrants and infidels more than 2000 years living with our fucking fears if you want to take it further let's take that love further They say there is strangeness to dangerous In our theaters and bookstore shelves Well if that is so I suggest we run and hide There will shit we don't know We will just have to keep living life But those who know what's best for us Must rise and save us from ourselves Save us from the nightmare creatures The demons and soul reavers Hide me from the limelight For I wish not to be seen In the sweltering nights heat Blood on the ground hands waving weapons of battle Heads on stakes Men being hanged at the corner of town The women that are being accuse of witchcraft The same that fermented cakes In the town bakery Are now being dunked and drowned unfit to stand trial A demon hunt tonight is going downA little story I made up...but it's not a story really just a view of life in metaphoric views of a witch hunt. This was written about a year ago. Written December 7th, 2001 © on Dec 07 2001 08:29 AM PST   0 • 1