Beautiful Crime

There's a double moon out yet the night is still pitch black. There's trouble out, too, and the night-man adjusts his cap. Well, I see the shadow lurking in the corner by the door. And I see the future but I, I cannot look no more. A gentleman is that which his conscience can hold back. A cold wind arrives and takes me, unresponsive on its back. A gentleman is that man who'll never reveal himself. Terrible truths await those who'll not agree to turn back. And I need my fancy clothes. I need my big T.V. screen. I love my robo-toys and my digital everything. I relish in the safety artificially created. I hear the sounds of silence, if the clamoring is abated. The wind is restless tonight, it fears what is to come, I'm sure. There's never been an easy moment, that started this unsure. That man's hand, it falls. There's a terrible crack in time. A momentary loss of vision. And such a beautiful crime.