10-28-2003, 05:42 AM
Hell Night. BAD night where I live. A bunch of spooks in white robes and pointy hoods running around in pickup trucks, doing bad things to good people, burning, and raising hell. There'll be a lot of dead pets come morning, a lot of folk in intensive care, and a lot of families asking why. There will be the charred remains of burnt crosses in many people's front yards. And there wont be any police to be seen, as most of them will be wearing hoods and sitting in said pickup truck, while the others hide and cower wherever it is they go.
I'll be holed up in my home with a pump shotgun, a 10mm Uzi, a .357 Mag pistol, and a tear gas launcher. Same thing I do every year. My hedges are tall and very thorny at my new place. I don't expect much of a problem. Front gate has razorwire decorations. No touchy touchy.
I'll stay up all night, and watch the sunrise come morning, and, hopefully, sit back and give thanks that I have been passed over.
On the odd chance that the folks in white hoods do come trick or treating, well, you will most likely read about it in the papers.
I'll be holed up in my home with a pump shotgun, a 10mm Uzi, a .357 Mag pistol, and a tear gas launcher. Same thing I do every year. My hedges are tall and very thorny at my new place. I don't expect much of a problem. Front gate has razorwire decorations. No touchy touchy.
I'll stay up all night, and watch the sunrise come morning, and, hopefully, sit back and give thanks that I have been passed over.
On the odd chance that the folks in white hoods do come trick or treating, well, you will most likely read about it in the papers.
All alone, or in twos,
The ones who really love you
Walk up and down outside the wall.
Some hand in hand
And some gathered together in bands.
The bleeding hearts and artists
Make their stand.
And when they've given you their all
Some stagger and fall, after all it's not easy
Banging your heart against some mad buggers wall.
"Isn't this where...."
The ones who really love you
Walk up and down outside the wall.
Some hand in hand
And some gathered together in bands.
The bleeding hearts and artists
Make their stand.
And when they've given you their all
Some stagger and fall, after all it's not easy
Banging your heart against some mad buggers wall.
"Isn't this where...."