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May 1 13 7:15 AM
Cold Day In HellSpring has come, the birds returnFrom their winter homes.The birds and bees sing in the treesAnd poets write their poems.Love's in bloom in secret roomsAnd beauty fills the land.Hearts on fire, filled with desire,But death is close at hand.Death is close at hand.And it'll be aCold day in Hell!And it'll be aCold day in Hell!And it'll be aCold day in Hell!And it'll be aCold day in Hell.Summer's come, the birds in flight,Days filled with blue skies.And summer nights are summer daysDressed in a dark disguise.On their knees beneath the treesThe lovers holding hands.Hearts on fire, filled with desire,But death is close at hand.Death is close at hand.And it'll be aCold day in Hell!And it'll be aCold day in Hell!And it'll be aCold day in Hell!And it'll be aCold day in Hell.Autumn's come, the birds move on,Leaves are on the ground.A secret hand moves through the landBut doesn't make a sound.Lovers grieve among the leavesAnd dream of what they'd planned.Hearts on fire, filled with desire,But death is close at hand.Death is close at hand.And it'll be aCold day in Hell!And it'll be aCold day in Hell!And it'll be aCold day in Hell!And it'll be aCold day in Hell.Winter's come, the birds are gone,The world white with snow.The cold can kill when the wind-chillIs twenty-five below.Love gets old and grows so coldIt makes too few demands.Hearts on fire, filled with desire,But death is close at hand.Death is close at hand.And it'll be aCold day in Hell!And it'll be aCold day in Hell!And it'll be aCold day in Hell!And it'll be aCold day in Hell.Spring has come, the birds returnFrom their winter homes.The birds and bees sing in the treesAnd poets write their poems.Love's in bloom in secret roomsAnd beauty fills the land.Hearts on fire, filled with desire,But death is close at hand.Death is close at hand.Death is always close at hand.Elmer WigbyWhat can we say about Elmer's mother?Probably nothing that hasn't been said before.She was the sort of woman wholooked great from a distance, felt good in the dark,and could drive a man to distraction.She always carried a spare pair of pantiesin her purse - just in case.And what about Elmer's father?Well, he didn't stick around for very long.In fact he didn't even stay for breakfast.Elmer was 14 years oldand had gotten an A on his science project.He had built a radio set all by himselffrom a kit he had ordered through the mail.(He wanted to communicate with someone.)His mother was very proud of him.He always got A's in school.But none of the other kids liked him.They teased him and bullied himand called him "geek" and "dork" and other namesto make themselves feel superior.And Elmer, he just wanted someoneto notice that he was special,to recognize that he was worth something.His mother understood that he was specialbut she had needs of her own.She was getting ready to go out that nightand Elmer knew that he would be alone again.While she was trying on tops and perfecting her facehe sat quietly, staring into his aquarium.(His fish didn't seem to need anyone to be happy.)His mother was hoping to meet a man at the bar,a particular man this time.She had bumped into him at the grocery store that afternoon,literally and perhaps deliberately.He smiled at her and they exchanged pleasantries(he was the father of one of Elmer's classmates)and he gave her the impression that he mightbe able to get away that night.So, with high hopes and wearing her sexiest top,she said goodbye to her son.She told him to behave himselfthough she had no intention of doing so herself.The bar was unusually crowded for a Wednesday night,but she was able to find a table whereshe could see anyone who came through the door.She waited for hours, trying not to drink too much,but her friend never did show up."After all," she consoled herself,"he didn't actually say that he was definitely going to come."Still she was disappointed, and she wondered to herselfwhy she would wait so long for a man like that to show up.She guessed that she was just trying to satisfy some needbut she wasn't quite sure what it wasor how to go about satisfying it.It was getting close to closing timeand she realized that she had had a bit too much to drink.But she figured she could probably make it home all right.She had done it many times before.At home Elmer was sitting comfortably in the easy chair,staring at the television,watching old movies on a cable station.Elmer loved old movies. They were his only true friends.He was watching "Rebel Without A Cause" that night.He wished he could have had a friend like James Dean,someone who would lend him their jacket,someone who'd be there when the world ended.Not long after his mother left the barshe spotted a young sailor standing next to the road.To her bleary eyes he looked like a nice enough young manand she invited him into her car.She didn't notice the look in his eyes,the expression that matched the tattoo on his shoulder,a skull and crossbones with the word "Mom" underneath.They found a dark and quiet place to parkand it all started out friendly enough.But somewhere along the way things went badand Elmer's mother didn't enjoy it very much.He did terrible things to her that night,things too horrible to relate here,things that would have made you cry.And she never made it home that night.She never made it home ever again.Home, where Elmer was sitting quietly in the easy chairwatching his very last old movie, motionless, unattentive.He had taken a knife from the kitchenand opened up the veins in his wrists.He had gotten blood all over the carpetand all over the easy chair.(His mother wouldn't have liked that.)"West Side Story" was playing on the television.Natalie Wood was singing, "There's a place for us.A time and place for us. Somewhere. Somewhere."They found Elmer's mother in the back seat of her car,her clothing torn, her body bruised,her eyes lifeless but full of tears.They found Elmer in the easy chair covered with blood.He was wearing the paisley sweaterthat his mother had bought for him.He had always hated that sweater.It made him look like a dork.All the lonely people.Where do they all come from?All the lonely people.Where do they all belong?