I'll have decap.

Beach-goer on Long Island, interviewed near site of several recently-discovered body dumps:

I'm not really worried about a serial killer. There's a better chance of getting killed on a Long Island Rail Road train or walking into a pharmacy.

Consider methodical murder, random murder—what difference does it make? It's like getting killed and dismembered—what's dismemberment matter to you? I've also thought about this in relation to dying in a terrorist act. Care to discuss? What...? Oh, ha, ha, don't worry—I'm not dangerous!

   

Pumped Up Kicks

irkenrebelautumn

Robert's got a quick hand
He'll look around the room, he won't tell you his plan
He's got a rolled cigarette
Hanging out of his mouth, he's a cowboy kid
He found a six-shooter gun
In his dad's closet with in a box of fun things
I don't even know what
But he's coming for you, yeah he's coming for you

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You'd better run, better run, outrun my gun
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You'd better run, better run, faster than my bullet

Daddy works a long day
He'll be coming home late and he's coming home late
And he's bringing me a surprise
'Cause dinner's in the kitchen and it's packed in ice
I've waited for a long time
Yeah the slight of my hand is now a quick pull-trigger
I reason with my cigarette
And say, "your hair's on fire, you must've lost your wits, yeah"

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You'd better run, better run, outrun my gun
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You'd better run, better run, faster than my bullet