Her heart is haunted by the sound of thunder,
A voice of magic like an ancient ringer,
Through the eyes of black and thrilling wonder,
A focus on the Rocky horror picture.
A poet from an old satanic cult.
Yet so many thoughts become unlucky,
The way of life became a most occult,
Blinded by the fear of being cruddy.
To float upon a Halloween parade!
Or die or try a little drunken spider,
Press the button on an escapade,
See the side of you a liar liar.
To see a little punch and Judy show!
An hour or later on another ringer,
Through the back of ova studio,
A party at the Rocky horror picture.
Thanks for reading through...
