She's been a target before

And he knows her handle well

Emission nocturnal with envy, now

She's rang his bell, but doesn't know it

Universal in never ending, running from herself

No reversal though in his calling

Locked inside his, locked inside his hell

She's burning his cross, with his fingers crossed

Trophy Wifi

Not a soul can tell

He's got a show to tell

The object of his infection

hell bent on this sell, e-stalking profit

Crawling sideways among the darkness

Relentless in her escape for help

Or lack thereof she's unwillingly now become

His trophy to mount