He said "Wait, something is lying there, stiff."

"Oh, c'mon. We're going to be late", she yelled.

As drops of rain washed down the ruddy fluid,

They hurried over to the object…and learned a thing or two.

This is a déjà vu. A tragic one.

The ones that you don't want to see twice.

So shut the door, and pull the plug.

Tighten your laces, and hide or run.

It was very tranquil at home, sweet home. As if everyone was mute.

No "Hi" or "Bye". Nor "Good morning", or "Good night".

The only audible noise was from the abandoned house next door,

The disturbing whistles from the flute.

Home was dark. Dark in each and every way. And there was no sunlight.

No household chores, no business trips, nothing.

And nothing anyone could ever do.

What they learned was a killer.

It hurt, it scared, it angered, it killed.

This is a déjà vu. A tragic one.

The ones that you don't want to see twice.

So shut the door, and pull the plug.

Tighten your laces, and hide or run.

Let's go back to that same night.

That same night when they were running late.

Let's learn together, what they learned together.

But unfortunately that's not happening.