This world better run or stay out of his path
Nothing stands the heat, even his soul inside has craed
His eyes spew the flames he cant seem to breathe
His hands crush everything he can touch..... And even his dreams
Oh and these chills you see, they're not nearly from the cold
They're from holding ba the screams and his temper's short!
Blooded cold shoulder motherf*er, Yes now its his turn
Now the smoke is rising from him, He's watching it all burn.
He's proud of who he is, Like the cruel world makes things...
F* the consequence, becuase that's what he brings.
His heart slams inside his chest more loudly than he can think.
His hands touch everything he can crush ..... And even his dreams.
