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The magic is black, backyard happy and fertile
For Kasso, the Acid King of the Black Circle
Same year Bowie dropped
Two horns hatched and matured to gore Northport's '84
Here is '84: Mary Lou Retton, Excitebike, AIDS, Jeopardy!
Wake up the Orwell in me
Crack rock, anyway: seventeen summers in developing
Would it be the middle school or ketamine? Guess
Left home in the dark
To curl up in a bear hug in Suffolk County's arms
With a bevy of heavy metal records and leather bibles
More Anton LaVey than Saint Michael
More sherm in a Ford on bricks behind Midas
Fly with the pentagram pilots
Sabbath and Judas and all tunes prudent
Seems tame now, but then it was Devil music
Rick Six, the nickname clicks
Makeshift altar in a clearing in the sticks
Forfeit a kitten by the forks from the kitchen
With horsemen who drew the same symbols
Pitchforks waving out a grand theft four by four support system
Alas; Angus on the ax in the back
Foreground offering a pitch-dark animal corpse
And backyard black mass
And a brash curiosity opt for grave robbery
To puff and pluck skulls at a cemetery property
Cops cuff him and stuff him in Amityville Asylum
It's fantasy island for Noah's Lions, at the time
South Oaks, but focus on the environment
And how it couldn't loosen the Lucifer out his client
Who would flee
Pale moon, pale horse howling death
And LSD to make it mean more than it meant
Pay attention: here's where the whole thing sours
And goes from intriguing to wowzers
At a party, a passed out drunk Kasso gets got for 10 bags of dust
Now it's not a big town, and people have big mouths
So he fishes around 'til he figures it out
Gary Lauwers, seventeen years young
You have no idea what you've done
Track him down, beat him pissy
He got five bags back, still owes him fifty
Oh Ricky, Ricky, do we hound him for loot?
Or show him how the hellbound do? Hmm...
Kasso waives all debts
Says, "Let's just go and get baked instead"
Two shake hands and the beef play dead
Though it's more like a skeeter shaking a web
And along came a spider with two of his friends
It was into the woods, a delusional mess
Four kids dipped in a black hole bath
June 16, Kasso snaps
Off-guard Gary tackled and pinned
Sees Rick pull a knife from his jacket and grin
Raise that knife like a sword to the moon
Plunge that knife through a portrait of youth, going
"Say you love Satan, say you love Satan"
Lauwers ain't say it, just cave to the facelift
Thirty-two stab wounds, gouged out eyes
Burns on his skin, not a cloud in the sky
Kasso had later explained he was told
By Satan himself in the form of a crow
To murder the kid cold
A part of a pristine whole
No, no, no, no, no...
And just had to brag
Until somebody sad just had to rat
Sat in a cell as a merchant of hate
Who would hang from his sheet before the third day
Some say Kasso was part of a cult
But I'm sure there was more than we're told
More than adults or authority could rightly decode
Or maybe I'm wrong and he's finally home
Kasso!
It's starting to feel like a nice night
Hold close to the highs and the white light
Hold close to the good you are drawn to
These woods were grown to disarm you
It's starting to feel like a nice night
Hold close to the highs and the white light
Hold close to the good you are drawn to
These woods were grown to disarm you
It's starting to feel like a nice night
Hold close to the highs and the white light
Hold close to the good you are drawn to
These woods were grown to disarm you
It's starting to feel like a nice night
Hold close to the highs and the white light
Hold close to the good you are drawn to
These woods were grown to disarm you
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