Raoul Duke, and Buk, they are my crowd
Fit together like the shotgun fits in Hemingway's mouth
I carve down my plot, I write with your blood
I created this world, but first came the word

You have no light in sight
Just endless darkness to fight
The horror story comes true
I'm dark, twisted, and cruel

I'm in the rain, trickling down
I'm the sickness of this town
I'm the ants inside your walls
The quiet knocking on your door
It's not your story to write
Scratch out your words in the night
When the writer is in doubt
My turn to come out

I pillage and I murder, I'm haulting my loot
No need for drugs or booze, my nightmares are my muse
I swagger down the alley, I don't say please
The town is burning while you beg for mercy
I'll make you bleed

You have no light in sight
Just endless darkness to fight
The horror story comes true
I'm dark, twisted, and cruel
You locked your house, but I'm inside
I count to ten and let you hides
I'm the knife cutting your blouse
The wicked whisper in your ear
It's my story to write
Ripping pages in the night
When the writer is in doubt
I just scratch, scratch out