The man with a smile 
Stood across a dead pile
Wallowing in crimson
still his eyes lay a prison

A gloomy gaze upon himself 
stood In wallowing pain, as cry for help
As he stands in the cold night air
with no movement his eyes may stare

A wide crooked smile creeps across his face
Still he disappears without a single trace
An unpleasant feeling full of woe and of doubt
A feeling of caution that we can't live without

if you see him prepare to run
because he will find you before the night is done..
dont walk alone for the clocks time is shown
a quarter to 9 its te to go home..
Although this man may feel everyone's pain
He feels their pain as joy just the same

so beware of the man that stands in dark style
for the last thing youl see is his twisted crooked smile.