Talk to me of ire and vice
And the things that we’ve done wrong
In golden tones sing tragic songs
Of childhoods lost to fire and ice

Wrap me up in malice and fear
Tight-tucked little bundle of blood
Spin tales of turning from the floods
And a conscience callus and clear

Devils we are, demons, you and me
With fangs and manicured claws,
Grey wings, red lies, white flaws
Bubbles burst by a voodoo set free