written july 15th 2003
They are coming
The sound of the boots
On the steps of doom
The laughter
And the screams.
They are coming
No place to hide
But behind a smile
Or a suicide
So nice and clean.
They are coming
Voices of nowhere
Crawling in dreams
Politeness is
Requested by law.
They are coming
Die without a sign
Or a complaint
It could hurt
Their innocent knives.