The little needle spent its life beckon’d to bade,
Taken out for another ice moon escapade.
I dubbed it, at my discretion behind her lure,
the life-saving, life-changing, Highway Man’s Dagger.
Like a vampire’s fangs biting into my veins
I lost my innocence, over and over again.
In a sense, past life had already met an end.
Now needle-man was my unquestioning friend.
Lost in a symphony of sensation,
and I lower yet higher to delicate elation.
The world beneath me, and I to it damned.
That dagger declared me, the Higher-way Man.
And every day thereafter I would save the children
Translating grace from docile and doomed men.
And overall, my terrible tales of woe...
How they almost became the Highway Man’s Toll.