It’s the rotting, musty green door
They have to pass
To prevent him from killing more
Open the handle made of brass

Enter into the home of the dead
Looking around the main hall
Was the evidence correctly read
To find out, his name they call

He takes the path
The one less traveled by
Hoping not to feel the wrath
He is about to cry

Check his corners
Check his Colt
Don’t end up like Dorner
Self-control, don’t bolt

Can he keep going
Should he stop
With the wind blowing
The cobwebs drop

He hits a chair and trips
He sees a trail of blood
His heart begins to skip
His adrenaline begins to flood

He follows the deathly trail
Into the dining room
Should his Colt fail
He would meet his doom

Check his corners
Check his Colt
Don’t end up like Dorner
Self-control, don’t bolt

He reaches the door with the hole
Stepping over the rug
He sees the blood in the bowl
He feels like his grave has been dug

The door isn’t locked
He pushes it fast
His Colt is cocked
His fate has been cast

He crept down each stair
With fear in his mind
He entered the beast’s lair
He was in a real bind

Check his corners
Check his Colt
Don’t end up like Dorner
Self-control, don’t bolt

He sees the dead
With the missing hand
What could be said
Now that the guilty will be buried in sand

He hears a scream
From two floors up stairs
Penetrating the old beams
His neck is bristling with hairs

To the entry way he races
Past the trail of blood
For a sight he braces
Then he sees the flood

Check his corners
Check his Colt
Don’t end up like Dorner
Self-control, don’t bolt

Blood flows down the walls
In a horrifying way
Starting down the halls
His fear barely kept at bay

He reaches the door
To the sound of the screams
Scared to his core
His death prevalent it seems

He enters the room
On this last date
To see his unavoidable doom
And meet his fate

He can no longer
Check his corners
Or check his Colt
He ended up like Dorner
No self-control, he should have bolted