Drink from the well of yourself and begin again.
And he never would have guessed, how could he have guessed? He felt a sharp pain as the knife entered his chest.
He slammed on the breaks, looked up at her face;
She seemed turned on with blood all over the place.
She straddled on his lap, Pulled the knife back;
The floow of warm blood, then his body relaxed.
‘Cause when a killer kills a killer, and reality’s disrupted;
The victims not the victim, and the hunter is the hunted.