The Tune of the Millenial Grave

From the Brain of Amy

The man on the moon; hums a cynical tune,
watching over demise and distress.
For his evil will spawn as the sun breaks the dawn,
in a brilliant game of chess.
His pieces are played and he sharpens his blade.
He moves with ease and finesse.
The blood that is spilled as another swallows a pill;
their souls he will caress.

For his game has begun; no one can outrun.
Watching our demise and distress.
He will guide each hand till we cannot stand,
in a brilliant game of chess....