From Barcelona to Paris or
Athens from Venice,
Searching for the forgotten son-
The one who can bring back balance.
Traveling and circling the ancient cities-
His old bars, his old haunts.
Where has the son of Dracula gone?
You can almost hear his heart beating
You can almost smell his alcohol induced
Breathing. Where is this Egypt? Sudan?
Gazing upon a beautiful mid-Eastern
Princess-she returns glare for my gaze.
And its not that she hates, its just she knows
Why we come-for the dark son.
He has left her to continue fleeing-
Only booze and blood controlling his erratic thinking.
Always knowing we are closing in, he's
Quick to jump ship and swim.
Through the tides of time,
He hides in the world's backyard.
