I am wondering in the darkest of nights
where my steps seek the ground before their way down,
there is no soul in the streets and cardboard boxes block all exits,
it is so dark the voice can not pass and I may as well close both my eyes…

The smell of skin I feel it’s unfamiliar, fogy and synthetic,
a hand grabs my leg and I stumble to find my path,
it hurts from the skin and goes to the bones
it’s a song but all I can tell apart are people who scream,
and in the absence of the sun the world doesn’t cool down
so I melt into the cement and finally found a way out…

Where is the white horse that brought me here?
I can see the saddle on a pile of skulls,
might as well take a Harley to next town,
soldier of fortune going through hell and fire
does this make me feel or is it still a nightmare?