John Wayne Gacy, Jr. Lyrics - Illinoise - Sufjan Stevens

His father was a drinker 

And his mother cried in bed 

Folding John Wayne's t-shirts 

When the swing set hit his head 

The neighbors, they adored him 

For his humor and his conversation 

Look underneath the house there 

Find the few living things 

Rotting fast in their sleep of the dead 

Twenty-seven people 

Even more 

They were boys 

With their cars 

Summer jobs 

Oh my God... 

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Are you one of them? 

He dressed up like a clown for them 

With his face paint white and red 

And on his best behavior 

In a dark room on the bed he kissed them all 

He'd kill ten thousand people 

With a sleight of his hand 

Running far, running fast to the dead 

He took off all their clothes for them 

He put a cloth 

On their lips 

Quiet hands 

Quiet kiss 

On the mouth 

Photos 

And in my best behavior 

I am really just like him 

Look beneath the floorboards 

For the secrets I have hid