Martin

Martin is a boy with problems Martin has a family history Martin has too many nightmares He lives in a fantasy There's a danger that he'll take too far His morbid curiosity He's seen too many creepy films He's read too many books Martin sleeps with all the lights on Martin's seen too many looks He lives out a strange obsession Tries hard to resist But Martin needs this strange obsession To exist He's far too pale, far too frail To be a normal boy There's something shining in his eyes The things he'd like to say Martin had a lot to live down Growing up in a mining town Torches burning in the trees The shivering lust for blood He's the star of many horror movies But deep inside he's good There's an illness flowing through him That's there all the time And though he watches and he waits He knows he's not to blame The face at the window The hand under the bed Martin has hallucinations Dreams that he's dead He finds the hunger at its worst When he's in bed He's finding hard to keep control He knows it won't be long And his tongue rolls over his dry lips And the voice lingers on Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin