He steps off the buss,
A familiar stranger;
A bag in his right hsnd,
His left in his pockets.

His heavey booted feet;
Noiselesly make their way down the dark street,
He is one with his brother, the night;
This lonely lad;

He has no girl and keeps no friends,
He turns onto the gravel road;
His powerful strides crunching and crushing the pebbles beneth his feet

Headlights of vehicles offer fleeting glimses of the monster with in;
A heart of steel and nerves of titainum,
These are the defenses built over the years,
He thrusts no one, and leaves nothing to chance.

He offers a solemn greeting in a voice suited to the grim reaper;
'Good night'
Their reply is warm, but ineffective.

He now conquers the grass on his parpet,
noiselessly opens his gate;
He is hoeme, this is his domain,
Tresspassers dare not enter for fear of the unknown.

He went, he saw, he conqured.
18 yrs of living, he has seen it all;
Murder, mahem and corruption,
Sickness, desease and death.
The evil of man.
His is sterile of all feeling,
Emotionless......
Yet, he lives!