Forensic scientists lounge in the dark

And I lurk causing their hairs to stand up

Wind howling violent I leave my mark

Poor soul’s samples gathering in their cup

Time cannot tell the waiting I endured

Flames flickering in the dewy midnight

Spattered lively awaiting to be cured

No thumping no pumping no flight or fight

Coronary disfunction not the cause

My phantom’s figure vibrates your chorus

Whispering lost all sense of worldly laws

Encroaching my porcelain rigor mortis

Ghostly longing for justice my new friend

Forensic scientists control the end

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