skeletons in my closet...

"boy and girls of every age wouldn't you like to see something strange?"

hands white as unstained ivory

clack together

to form the unnerving sound of applause

from the fists of long dead villians.

a midnight graveyard dance

is a horrible thing to witness,

but to rejoice in the pagan revelry

one night on the calender

can be forgiven by the spotted hands

of old clergymen

decomposing under their robes.

in shards of mirror glass

we investigate our own souls,

trying to understand

who we desperatly wish to be.

i am a great monster,

fur gnarled with dirt and blood

lurking under bridges and behind doors.

i am the sorcerer,

a conjurer of cheap tricks.

ultimatly impotent of any real power.

i am the ghost,

forgotten and transparent,

each day, my prescene vanishes more.

there are shadows on the moon tonight

covering the face of the laughing man.

cast off your burdens for several hours

so we may f**k in blood

and taste the sweet allowance

of our baser needs

on this holy occassion.