I might be Jim Morrison’s <br />Killer on the road, <br />A derelict you’d like to forget, <br />But don’t look into my eyes, <br />You might become hypnotized. <br />You think I’m too dirty <br />For your side of town, <br />But, baby, I might be the man <br />Who burns you down. <br />I’m schizophrenic and firecracker high, <br />I’m not scared to live <br />And I’m not scared to die, <br />I’m carrying my pistol <br />And I’m carrying my knife <br />I’m dropping my wallet, <br />I don’t value this life, <br />I can taste blood <br />In the smoky air <br />That drifts through the night, <br />There’s nothing I want to see, <br />I’ve got a fever in my eyes, <br />I’m going to paint a violent masterpiece <br />The day they label me deceased, <br />I’ve got a heart like morgue, <br />I don’t worry about nothing anymore, <br />I think I’ll tattoo my neck <br />With rusty razorblades, <br />Don’t look in my direction <br />Unless you’re wearing shades, <br />I might be the man, baby, <br />Who burns you down.<br /><br />Uriah Hamilton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/jim-morrison-s-killer-on-the-road/
