He waited by the bathroom mirror then
Where he and his reflection once would meet,
But that illusion wouldn't come again.
He went down to the kitchen, took a seat.
His hunger for some toast 'came thirst for blood
But O.J. was the closest thing he had.
He couldn't leave for now there was a flood
Of sunlight which would melt away poor Chad.
So back into his crypt the monster fled
In trying to adjust to nightlife youth.
He could not make this coffin his new bed
And blood gave him the willies, tell the truth.
Eternity's a pain in his old back
For now he sits forever talking smack.