oktober
torsdag 9 april 2009 bild 1/1
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torsdag 9 april 2009 bild 1/1
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John Wayne Gacy Jr.
His father was a drinker and his mother cried in bed
Folding John Wayne's t-shirts, when the swingset hit his head
The neighbours they adored him for his humour and his conversation
Look underneath the house there, find the few living things rotting fast in their sleep of the dead
Twenty-seven people, even more
they were boys with their cars,summerjobs
Oh my god
Are you one of them ?
He dressed up like a clown for them, with his face paint white and red
And on his best behaviour in a dark room on the bed he kissed them all
He'd kill ten thousand people with a sleight of his hand
Running far, running fast to the dead
He took of all their clothes for them
He put a cloth on their lips
Quiet hands, quiet kiss, on the mouth
And in my best behaviour, I am really just like him
Look beneath the floorboards for the secrets I have hid.
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