Wanderer of the Night
I am a wanderer of the night
condemned forever, waiting to bite
lusting the pulse of the liquid life
running from the magicked knife
taking to the sky, spreading my wings
those horrible cursed black feathered things
that came with the promise of the everlasting dance
of giving none of the weaklings even the slightest chance
a reminder of my curse, my life full of hate
and of a past forgotten, full of lust I couldn't sate
I take to the streets, striking fear in my prey
who don't that this is my territory, and that this is their last day
I dress and will myself to the "Gothic Palace"
a place where me wardrobe goes along with the malice
of these children of, oh, so few years
I reach into their minds and cultivate their fears
the things they don't know stand out in stark relief
they don't think they need a bible, a Koran, or belief
I try to keep their future away from my past
by the end of my search only few can last
I exit through the club's backdoor and hum a little tune
I lure a drunken boy out, I'll be feeding very soon
demons fangs shall break the skin and let out what lies below
approaching through the shadows, when his movements start to slow
prey can tell when they are being watched , oh yes, he knew
but once I got close enough there was nothing he could do
a whispered word, a quickened breath, he fell into my arms
a vampire who, minds can control, has no need for wit or charms
blue light flashed through my mind as I quenched my thirst
memories flashed before my eyes, he's an addict but not the first
I kill the low-lifes of society, they all taste the same
they are drawn to my kin and I, like moths to a candle's flame
I take a step, look around and then go back inside
leaving behind Kristopher, victim one-oh-five
I am a wanderer of the night
condemned forever, waiting to bite
lusting the pulse of the liquid life
running from the magicked knife
taking to the sky, spreading my wings
those horrible cursed black feathered things
that came with the promise of the everlasting dance
of giving none of the weaklings even the slightest chance
a reminder of my curse, my life full of hate
and of a past forgotten, full of lust I couldn't sate
I take to the streets, striking fear in my prey
who don't that this is my territory, and that this is their last day
I dress and will myself to the "Gothic Palace"
a place where me wardrobe goes along with the malice
of these children of, oh, so few years
I reach into their minds and cultivate their fears
the things they don't know stand out in stark relief
they don't think they need a bible, a Koran, or belief
I try to keep their future away from my past
by the end of my search only few can last
I exit through the club's backdoor and hum a little tune
I lure a drunken boy out, I'll be feeding very soon
demons fangs shall break the skin and let out what lies below
approaching through the shadows, when his movements start to slow
prey can tell when they are being watched , oh yes, he knew
but once I got close enough there was nothing he could do
a whispered word, a quickened breath, he fell into my arms
a vampire who, minds can control, has no need for wit or charms
blue light flashed through my mind as I quenched my thirst
memories flashed before my eyes, he's an addict but not the first
I kill the low-lifes of society, they all taste the same
they are drawn to my kin and I, like moths to a candle's flame
I take a step, look around and then go back inside
leaving behind Kristopher, victim one-oh-five