Tired aching soaking wet the man he takes just one more step
He can’t go on he must stop.
Though were he stops he does not see the danger that faces thee
For in the dark a shadow grows

The shadow moves closer
Closer now
He feels it now a frightful thrill
The shadow he holds something,
Metal. Deadly. Cold.
For in his hands there is a gun

The man oblivious to the danger wanders towards
The deadly stranger
Before he realizes
His time is up
Lying, resting
Deadly. Cold.