Life by itself is rather boring,

Life by itself is rather gray,

I long for some small perfection,

To lead the dullness astray.

 

The screen calls my name,

It helps me get through the day,

No romance or drama for me,

Horror’s the only genre I play.

 

I feel a sense of worry,

While she runs for her life.

One step, two step, hurry!

Oh look, here comes the knife.

 

I know I am addicted

To the magnetism of the fear, the dread.

Will she make it to the morning?

The question suffocates my head.

 

Craven, Spielberg, Hitchcock:

Artists of the time.

Krueger, Jaws, Bateman:

Masterpieces of their primes.

 

I know you may think me wicked,

Strange, odd, insane.

But, honestly, if you were asked that question,

Wouldn’t you feel the same?