Sometimes when the wind blows just right.
And there is a special kind of darkness in the night.
You once again can taste the sweet cold Metallica of a forty five.
When life swung on a finger, so long ago.
Just to pull, or just say no.
Some say you can hear the roar.
Before lights out, for evermore.
And even if you did not, Charley would do his best.
To put you all down to rest.
In black pajamas, and no armored vest.
But when it came to killing, he was the best.
Just laughed at your high tech
Yet beat, all the West.
And you thought, you were the very best.
TDK
