THE RIVER RUNS RIGHT THROUGH TOWN.  CLOTTING AND ROTTING MORE AND MORE AS THE GREENBLACK MUCK WASHES AWAY UNDER THE CRIMSON TIDE.  ACHERON.  THE RIVER TYRANT.  IT FLOWS FASTER THAN YOU WOULD EXPECT.  IT SMELLS WORSE THAN YOU WOULD EXPECT.

THIS CITY HAS BEGUN TO CHANGE.  YOUR NEIGHBORS HAVE NAILED BOARDS OVER THEIR WINDOWS.  YOUR FAMILY BRACES FOR DEATH WHENEVER THERE IS A KNOCK AT THEIR DOOR.  SOMEONE LIES DEAD IN THE STREET.  YOU CANNOT SEE THE STARS ANYMORE.

STRAY CATS STALK THE STREETS WITH THEIR MUZZLES MATTED STICKY RED.  THEIR EYES FOLLOW YOU HUNGRILY.  THE NEWS TEACHES YOU HOW TO HATE.  THE DOOMSDAY CLOCK OVER YOUR BED WILL NOT STOP SCREAMING.  ITS HANDS ARE WRAPPED TIGHT AROUND MIDNIGHT’S THROAT.

THINGS DIDNT HAVE TO BE THIS WAY.  WE COULDVE BEEN BETTER THAN THIS.  THINGS DIDNT HAVE TO BE THIS WAY.  WE COULDVE BEEN BETTER THAN THIS.  THINGS DIDNT HAVE TO BE THIS WAY.  WE COULDVE BEEN BETTER THAN THIS.  THINGS DIDNT HAVE TO BE THIS WAY.  WE COULDVE BEEN BETTER THAN THIS.  THINGS DIDNT HAVE TO BE THIS WAY.  WE COULDVE BEEN BETTER THAN THIS.