|
She's been a target before |
|
And he knows her handle well |
|
Emission nocturnal with envy, now |
|
She's rang his bell, but doesn't know it |
|
Universal in never ending, running from herself |
|
No reversal though in his calling |
|
Locked inside his, locked inside his hell |
|
She's burning his cross, with his fingers crossed |
|
Trophy Wifi |
|
Not a soul can tell |
|
He's got a show to tell |
|
The object of his infection hell bent on this sell, e-stalking profit |
|
Crawling sideways among the darkness |
|
Relentless in her escape for help |
|
Or lack thereof she's unwillingly now become |
|
His trophy to mount |
