There's someone on the way home,

it's a bright shadow watching me,

I close my long coat and I look in the ground,

a street lamp flickers,

I look up and the man is gone,

a car speeds along the wet asphalt,

the full moon in a black puddle,

someone follows me,

I quicken my pace without looking back,

fear takes hold of me,

the blood is cold but the mind is warm,

now or never,

the breath on my neck and the wind in my face,

a white hand on my shoulder,

a glittering blade on my red throat,

I grab the hand and turn suddenly,

But there's no one there,

but there's no one there,

no one,

the rain starts to fall,

a puddle of blood,

a white glove,

a seven of heart's

in a black Cilynder.