Published: Dec 2008
what will the next bloody thrill be?
A robber, a cop, a saint, or a whore,
what will I find when I open your door?
Where is the love that's never been,
the emptiness haunts me again and again.
Where is the line between right and wrong,
where is the end of the endless song?
Who will I meet who will sing me a song,
just a whispering song where I belong,
like a lullaby to sing me to rest,
where I can feel good in a warm little nest.
Here comes the call, they're calling my name,
another chance for death or fame,
so loosen the gun and forget about fright
and the siren will sing my song tonight.