The Little Old Hellraiser, Me

Original poetry by Chrome Dome Mike Kimbro

Consider reading along to my Spoken Verse Performance.

VERSE 1

This world is getting kind of old,

The good times too few to mention.

A push and twist of the box I hold,

Opens the door to a new dimension.

VERSE 2

Lights will glow behind the rafters,

Heralding a goth trio's arrival.

It's too late for mirth and laughter,

Unless you're into things homicidal.

CHORUS

Dude, it's gonna be out of sight,

When I'm chosen to be a Cenobite.

With fishing hooks at the end of chains.

They're dishing out a blend of pain,

And pleasure, to the most deserving.

Yeah, Pinhead is who I'll be serving.

When I'm chosen to be a Cenobite.

VERSE 3

Starting off as an apprentice,

Quite fast my skills with mature.

Didn't have the grades to be a dentist.

So I'll settle for other forms of torture.

VERSE 4

To maximize the effect I'll play,

Early Genesis, for atmosphere.

Yeah, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway.

To some, just the name elicits fear.

CHORUS

Dude, it's gonna be out of sight,

When I'm chosen to be a Cenobite.

With fishing hooks at the end of chains.

They're dishing out a blend of pain,

And pleasure, to the most deserving.

Yeah, Pinhead is who I'll be serving.

When I'm chosen to be a Cenobite.

The End

Copyright © Michael Kimbro 2018.  All rights reserved.