Hedonism, sin and the wickedness that awaits within the gates of pleasure and excess. So open up and let them in. A saint becomes the tainted. Love becomes excess and hatred. Feast upon the flesh of an angel like nothing you have ever tasted. In hatred's streets, gold it flows like Midas's sheets. We lie and cheat. Even priests mistreat and binge. No longer consecrated, the sadists all turn to Satan. Founded a perverted heaven with hell sitting just adjacent to it. Indulge your wildest pleasures whether coin or sins of flesh. There's nothing better than when feeling bad gets lost amongst the sweat. Give you all the options, take it off and throw your Lot in. I would take the word of God with a grain or pillar of salt here. We've got it all here, bodies writhing sex and violence. We've got the all clear, as confirmed by heaven's silence. At times I love it, but when love has lost its meaning and the screaming and the bleeding intervene in sleep I'm thinking. If it were such a sin don't you think that God would intervene? so where's he at? While we revel in twisted bliss, it's best to wipe that myth from your godless lips. Corrupted angel flesh couldn't resist. If you let him in you would miss this.

I caught you glancing over you shoulder, looking my way then acting all shy. You got a smile that could turn me bipolar. But I wont lie, you're looking real fine. Blow me a kiss and pretend it means nothing. Sent you a text and you never replied. Sent me a message a few weeks later asking if I'm busy. I think I know why. I saw you out dancing, you saw me out drinking. I saw you saw me when I saw you outside. Pretend we didn't notice, each of us thinking a couple more drinks we might give this a try. But the night moves faster, we're still delaying. Anticipation building so hard to resist. But for some unknown reason we're both still waiting until the moment passes and another shot's missed. I want to be with you. You know what I want, and if you're free for something more we could get real dirty yeah. You could be my dirty girl tonight. One last chance then I might abandon any optimism that this wouldn't fall flat. There'll be no more glances. Upon reminiscing I'll be doing the unthinkable and maybe just ask. If you maybe like me like I like you too, if you like then maybe we could both go back to my flat. If it's not like we imagined in the thrill of the chase we would maybe like it better if we maybe go back.

Welcome to the year twenty seventy seven where we survived Armageddon and seen technology progressing, and supressing the desire to inspire and to innovate so happily we interface and empathy has been displaced. while upon the dinner plate convenience has seen this expedient freeze-dried lean meat piped through machines straight into apartments. Hearts grow dark when the adverts they target marks for the tech. Need it now, need the best. Feel the need to impress on an ocular quest To suggest that the mess that we send to the landfill's a problem is something that might get a man killed. Corporations running rampant, they own you. They cling the throne, seized power, and they told you every little thing that you will and you wont do. Time to rebel and bring it back to the old school. Down on the city streets under the smog and the heat there's a heartbeat that sees all the greed and it screams. Poverty and stress from the underdog. Private death squads one city under god, and he's a demon that's seems to believe that a man and machine is a new unity that we need to combine for the high life, great fee. One raised fist to the hive mind, break free. Take these pills or your body might reject all the chips in your head and the thoughts infect. Blanketed skies, numbed minds and combined they define this life. Uphill decline. Unprecedented times are the norm now. We're born to transform to machines, rip it all out. Don't get a synth heart if you can't hack it. Rebels rise up and they don yellow jackets. Post-apocalyptic existence is bliss if you're rich. If you're not then you fight to exist. It's almost sadistic the fix from the chips. It's a grift that you can't resist. It's not much and it's all we know. It's not right it goes on and on. Parasites on a golden throne so we rise and resist against the status quo.

When the pubs are closing down and turfing out the occupants the drunkards stagger home in hopes of getting back to bed again. The taxi rank is empty and the alkies starting arguments. To circumvent the issue Tom decides to nick a bike and then he's pedalling the streets swerving, with his feet slipping off the pedals and his vision blurry. Streamers tied to the seat. And several hundred feet pass by in a hazy flash. Several miles yet to go and he's getting gassed fast. The wind blew like never before and rattling showers did downpour. Speedy gleams the darkness swallowed, loud and deep the thunder bellowed. Half way too his home finds himself in darkened countryside. Stops to catch his breath and he sees a light. Curiosity strikes and he decides that he'll investigate the source. The booze steers his course towards the old fort. Voices fill the air, a joyous wicked revelry. He peeks his head around the corner, swears he sees the devil with these witches dancing naked and the demons looking on and singing songs and Tammy's transfixed watching it all going on. Towzie tyke, black grim and large. To gie them music was his charge. He screwed the pipes and made them sing til roof and rafters all did ring. Coffins stood like open presses, showed the dead in their last dresses. And by some devilish slight each of their cold hands held a light. Tam he lets out a gasp, and though it's barely audible the tawdry scene all turn and see him and let out a shrill cry. Ice down his spine, they're quickly in pursuit of him. He turns and flees jumps on the bike becomes a blur of limbs. As he pedals and he pedals, he can feel their breath upon his neck. Fingers miss by millimetres, panicking he sees the beck bridge. As he crosses the pursuit falls silent. The streamer ripped from the seat a sign he barely scraped by. There at them thy tail may toss. A running stream they dare not cross. Who this tale of truth shall read each man and mother's son take heed. If to drink you are inclined, or cutty sarks run in your mind. Think you might buy joys at cost, think of how Tam's streamer got lost.

I got a forty and a shorty and a pistol like a cannon. You know I stay strapped when I'm carrying my magnum. I aint talking bout a handgun, no I'm talking about shagging. I'm swagging like a motherfucker when it comes to action. Gaining traction on the beats, I'm attractive in the sheets. When you see me in the streets I'm Elite the way I Hangman. I'm the Omega got the Bucks I'm making paper. Stacking green like grocers, I'm the dose to take you to the Undertaker. I see the Ho-gunning for a top spot. Getting deep heat while I'm chilling icy hot. Tell me who are you, 'cause I'll tell you what you're not. You're just a jobber who can slobber on my red hot lyrics. Pissing on you like you're into golden showers. I'm groovy, swagadellic baby, got those Austin powers. Stone Cold killer the guerrilla in your midst. Get it on like donkey Kong I'm throwing barrels round and shit. Flinging faeces at the wall just to see what's gonna stick. Redecorate in fifty shades of you can suck a limp Bizkit member off for Cash, no Johnny. You and what army gonna Hurt by blood tsunami? Keep it spicy, pepperami, I am smarmy, I'm a prick. So sadistic when I spit that I corrupt like politics, or leaving disks on top of magnets, or that one guy with your chick who tells her she could do much better and he thinks it should be him. Shit. You know the type (font) keeps me burning bright. Versatile, I switch it out, I'm fertile in the shit I write. I'm turning styles to Kryptonite. I'm crypto to your dollar sign. I'm Mr White, you're Jane and Jesse's sleeping by your side and you are choking on your vomit as I watch it happen with delight. Some problems seem to solve themselves, and those that don't I do to spite you. Think I don't like you? Better think again. It's nothing personal I'm enemies with many men of course. Drugs for my equine, I'm on my high horse. I'm woke AF, JCVD I'm into blood sports. Mess you Warner merger, Tesco burger with the hidden additives. Piping Red Hot, undercooked and have you screaming that They Live. I am the Warrior, here to Slaughter all of ya. Drown you in a wishing well, I wish you knew the horrors that I spared you from in waters full of quarters. Know that your descent was a mercy killing, an attempt to circumvent the voices crawling round my head and telling me I must torment again. Relive events I thought I dreamed, the word contempt carved into flesh. Swear I'm not a monster though I fit the definition. And if I'm not the best I'll cull my closest competition down. How'd you like me now? Untouchable and uncontained, I'm off the charts, I'm off the chain, I'm dipping in then out again. Barely sane, can't take my Pillman. All my skills come from an illness messing with my brain. I'm Kane on a rampage, I'm a genius. And the big deal is I only give it ten percent. Setting a dead precedent. I promise make it great again. No MAGA when my swagga sizzles. My last will and testament will say bury me in a sanbox 'cause I am the excrement. I am the shizzle, the shiznit, the goat. No bullshit, I shovel raw coal down your throat. Add pressure then turn up the heat and I stoke. That's why you're finding diamonds analysing everything I've wrote. There's no hope containing my campaign of havoc and destruction. Always All In, always falling, always never give a. For goodness sake I am sleeping so bad I can barely function, but still cruising autopilot, rapid firing until I'm done. Which is never. Think you're smart? I'm cleverer. Good to go whenever so don't act like you have never heard of me. You are not Hellen Keller locked in Josef Fritzl's cellar. You have eyes and ears, witness me unleashing hell on earth. Putting Wordsworth to shame with these schemes. The way I work words is a fever dream, I stay obscene. Obsequious obsessive, all attention ought to be focused on me. I mean it, when I'm on caffeine I tend to go to the extreme. Maybe one day I'll get it out my system. Exorcise my demons look down and survey my kingdom. Instil all my wisdom and stop looking for a victim. Until then I'm staying twisted double fisting when I'm drinking. Which is worryingly regular. Destroy and then reset the bar. Not a singer, not a rapper, I can barely play guitar. And yet I hold my own, if there's a throne I think I ought to own it. Bow before the king and kiss the ring I am an arsehole.

Can't commit to anything or one. Which is why you find yourself alone and aging not having fun. And you're on your own with no-one to support you. Returned the favour, we all ignored you. Blame is easy allocated. Mislabelled as potential wasted. You try your hand at something new and then put it back down when it's not easy enough for you to figure out. How did you plan to add some meaning? Everything's a get rich quick scheme. Discarded, thrown out by the wayside, like the flowers on your grave site. And when you're gone we're going to throw a party, and nobody's going to say your name. Time will pass and you'll become forgotten. You're gonna learn what it is to fade.

We're gonna ride until we break down. We're gonna go until the wheels fall off. We're gonna ride until we break down, so strap yourself in better hold on tight. There's no stopping 'till we're forced to. We're gonna hurtle through the midnight singing. We're not stopping for, any stop sign, any cop car, any chalk line. We're not slowing for any incline, leaving flaming wrecks by the roadside. Keep it in six, that adrenaline quick fix hits like a brick when you're riding my stick shift. Drift sideways, even if we spin out there's no doubt you'll be hearing our mouths shout. Foot to the floor, no reverse. Oncoming lights. See who swerves first.

Katie was nineteen with odd tastes and high dreams. Read about monsters and demons and things. Journalism degree and a vision the she'd be the one to expose the unseen and seedy. New to a city that moves fast and don't sleep Living above a bar frequented by weirdos and freaks. No car, so she walks the streets on her way home one night when a man in the shadows speaks he says I've seen you around and I know your desires. I've seen what you seek and I've proof that vampires exist. Every sense tells Katie to flee, but she plants her feet firm entranced by the mystery. The man smiles slyly and whispers come with me as he turns down the alley and leads her away from the street. She follows at a distance too quick to trust and unwitting places herself in the middle of an ambush. The blood is calling for a swift aeration. Exsanguinate with precision and imbibe. A crimson kiss to sign your own damnation. To start anew the only cost is to die. Fangs at her neck a reality check for a fantasist obsessed with cheap sex and death. Crimson cascades stain the tip of her braids, picture perfect puncture wounds and regret on her face. Eyes unfocused and vacant on the middle distance. Existence snuffed out so she can sustain his. The man in black seductive and mysterious whispers in her ear, Have no fear my love you'll see this is nothing but a heartbeat, something you wont miss. Embrace the abyss and my heart of blackest pitch Will hold you eternal. I wont hurt you for more than a second and the moment will soon pass. He pauses thoughtful, deliberating the next move. Smiles to himself and he chooses what's arguably the greater of two evils, the beautiful tragedy, gifts her his blood and grants her immortality. Katie awakes, the thirst is overwhelming, can smell things dwelling within the musty walls. The old building seems abandoned except for a man that's been tied up further down the hall. His scent is alluring and she rises to investigate. Only thing on her mind is how his neck will taste. Zeroed in doesn't stop to check his face. The shadowy figure observing the mess she makes. Wrecks the place. Animalistic feeding frenzy. Carnage of an apex predator learning to feed. Soon exhausts herself and falls to a bent knee. Horrified by what she's done, she begins to scream and plead. From the dark a voice starts laughing, says did you enjoy your snack? We'd best start packing. Last thing we need is a Helsing or Harker. But before we go, let's finish up your father.

I find it hard to breathe when your beauty overwhelms me. I've been losing sleep with you starring in all my dreams. And I know this seems a little forward but please let me speak. I'm trying to be redeemed. So fascinated by your mystique. You're stunning. I'm coming. There's no running. I'm convinced they lied when they said love was kind, and I'm losing my mind. There'll be nowhere to hide when I love you to death. The sound of your voice sets my nerves ablaze in frenzied desire. I'm not like other boys. Don't you like the way it feels to be admired? This heart destroys, almost as quickly as the flames from my lighter. Try to enjoy this bed of kerosene my gorgeous bonfire. It's more than just a crush on you. We broke the wall and then push on through. You see you've got my blood rushing too. I steal your breath as I thrust in you.

All black with a mask over his face, and he's dug up some dirt from Facebook. He knows they deserve this justice. It's all so absurd. A spooky pervert who likes hanging out on rooftops. A semi-psycho who pretends like he's a beat-cop. Why can't he understand he isn't superman? A vigilante's what he's not. Cashier, a kid who's just at work when this dumbass kicks in the door. Starts screaming something about a basement, and no one in the building has a clue. Nanana Batman.

By sheer force of will I find us back where we began. Since then I've grown a lot, won't make the same mistakes again. But as it seeps in, seems I'm falling like I did the first time round. Realisation dawns upon me. You and I were always hellbound. Took your bed set it ablaze, erased the names carved in your bedpost. Watched them all go up in flames. Call this a fresh start, or a chance to make the same mistakes again. I think now I know you better. I'm prepared, anticipating. Know I can hold it together when your mind and eyes start straying. But the moments come it plays out just the same without a change. Empathy is hard when burned out. Can't recapture the thrill of the chase. If this isn't purgatory, then it's something close. A cycle where the tighter we hold on, the faster we let go.