With dark eyes, spiky hair,

And promises of escape,

You were perfect, you were right there.

Yes, a superhero without a cape.

Already separate bloody messes,

We found each other,

The escape eases the stresses.

In each other, we’ll burn, sink, smother.

Violence, leather, drugs and fear,

The perfect starter,

As we’re caught in the headlights like deer,

For punk’s new martyr.

As they stare into each others eyes,

They saw any future go up in flames,

They forgot the how’s, the why’s,

For their deaths, oh, they were famed.

Pyscho seventy-eight,

The hotel’s bath…

Don’t be late!

But we’re already too deep, too far on this path…

It’s mid-October and love is destructive as well,

Sid and Nancy weren’t born to die young,

But this life is hell,

And they were more punk than a punctured lung.