Souls To Sell

You hear them screaming,
and running and seemingly
dead with their smoldering eyes.
I cannot imagine
the world you must live in
when everyone's made out of lies.
There is no escaping
When everything's taken
and nightmares leap out of the bed.
You know you're not crazy
but memory's hazy,
you just might be losing your head.
Don't run from the rain storm,
though dark clouds are forlorn
and lightning can destory the sky.
In front of the doorway,
a sight that you can't say,
the man hanging by his own tie.
The clock in the attic,
alive in a panic,
screams that you've run out of time.
so pull on your hat,
we just can't stop to chat
if you'll get out before the last chime.
Your heels are all broken,
you're already choking,
your lips are a dark lavender.
the puppets are laughing
your airways are halfing,
grab your old suitcase
and tie up your boot lace
and get out while you still can.
you might have a chance
to escape this romance
and Satan's fiery hand.
But you've got to get out
with no scream, with no shout.
and here is my favorite kicker-
you're trapped in a place
made of shadows and waste,
locked in by your own love of liquor.
you can run, you can cry,
you can break down and hide
but in the end you will go back to hell,
and go find more souls to sell.