I am the dark lord,
Ruler of the decimating sword...

Having thrown a few clothes in a bag,
I left this place long ago, and began to roam...

Dark ominous clouds swirl in with feverish speed,
The walls of Valhalla tremble at the thunderous...

Through the years, I thought it was good, thought...
My rock, my pedestal, Gibraltar for infinity...

It's a constant barrage,
It's our life flashing by, in some sick, twisted...

Dear mom:
I can not take it anymore...

1st Verse:
It's been a rough ride...

Come with me, my deteriorating child,
We will be trekking far into the wild...

Do you hear me, my little child?
It's the gray ghost...and you are the one I...

Your skin is so smooth,
You have a magnificent thigh...

The despondency of life has defeated you,
The food has lost it's flavor...

I see a poor child staring through a window,
At an unattainable plaything in a toy store mall...