The wind wasn't blowing,
So everything stood still,
People not knowing,
About the reincarnation of Bill,
He was once a charming young lad,
With a devious smile,
And the blue eyes he had,
That made your mind drift away for a while,
But he wasn't as nice as he seemed,
Growing up abandoned by his parents,
Because his personality was bad boy themed,
But although girls loved his irresistible presence,
He hated everyone,
No questions asked peasant,
He told himself everyday,
Not wanting to trust,
Nor give his heart away,
One day all of the lusting and hatred stopped,
A vein in his head gave way,
And just popped,
He bled as if bleeding was a hobby,
His last words were,
I hate you Bobby,
A few years after he was buried,
A baby was born,
His skin looked as if it was curried,
Charles was his name,
Just like Bill,
Being a bad boy was his game,
He used a formula to clear up his skin,
Looking like a regular white kid,
With his blonde hair thin,
He was 17 when he killed his mother and father,
Everyone else he hated,
He didn't say anything longer,
Killing was his daily routine,
And drinking their blood was his protein,
When the police found him,
They made him promise to stop,
But after he said the words, "I will,"
A dark voice came out of him saying,
" Hi bitches it's Bill!"
