Dark Carnival


There’s no need for any memoirs—
since when does Hollywood care?

Los Angeles a heartless bitch—
just ask Bela Lugosi, my dears

Bela fell for Ed Woods of course—
offered the chance to star again

Who gave a fuck if it was cheesy—

Actors need to act to live—
it’s the lifeblood of filmic gods

Gods of the Silver Screen—
the only Immortality we have

Observe us at any Film Palace—
but there are none of them left

We live again only alone—
like very old vintage wine

We need Hollywood no longer—
we exist now in the Night

Look at me Tod Browning—
sitting in front of my TV

Alone in my beach-house—
late at night on Monica Beach

Watching late movies—
preferably old horror ones

We directors make movies—
like Billy Wilder and Huston

But I was unique—
I created you FREAKS 

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