Did you like her? Was she smooth as silk? A lady of hopes and dreams and of flesh and despair? Did you like him? Was he a loverman? Amazing? Gentle in touch and truly full of despair? Combine them and you'll have a being of light. A creature depraved of lust and rust and despair. The thing on the threshold knows my name. It's shouting curses, words of blame. The thing in my arms don't make a sound. Never really noticed it until now. The thing on my back is laughing still drewling poison, makes me ill. And laughter is contagious as you know With a mad man's grin. On I go.