Soon

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It's all too real, that heavy sense of dread.

Something is watching, something wants you dead.

When you go to the mailbox, alone in the dark,

When you walk down the street, or go to the park.

Is it behind you? A monster? A clown?

Maybe it's a killer that wants to take you down.

You can't describe it, you just kind of know.

That feeling you get, peering through a dark window.

What is it? That chill. That fear of death.

It churns your stomach, it stops your breath.

It's always in the air, on the eve of a full moon.

You can't escape it... it's coming, soon.

 it's coming, soon

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