the streets were covered with an illusion
a vast amount of clothes we sent from the Orient in a box...
puzzled look by some passerby's
covered emblems with dashing brilliance

beneath the earth the creatures do dwell
but I have a good story to tell
the box came from the outer banks of Hell
legend has it stored in columns of writings

there was a fir trapper in line for a new position...
he was an important socialite & wanted to start a new conversation,
over a period of time he showed his face

tiny eyes with a big head with a bullet hole inside...
he was shot by accident from his uncle
yet he survived the whole ordeal
he brought up the story of the box

that night he fell into a deep sleep
only to awake to feeble minded mutants running through his head...
calling him further & wanting him dead
he lay puzzled and dismissed the whole event,

later in the morning when he arose
out the dead smack in the road was a mutant...
the fir trapper drew nearer to look
it grabbed a hold of his leg and bit him
days would pass having no reason to grasp

the trapper fell really ill & turned into a zombie mutant...
the streets got word & shot the man dead
but that wasn't the end quite yet
lest ye forget the box now in lock & chain

it suddenly opened and the streets were filled with these mutants once again
no one had a cure for the were all doomed
until the uncle from the late fir trapper appeared with a silver bullet able to kill mutants...

he loaded his gun and one by one they lay dead...
what was going on inside his head
but that was the end my friend