The Fighter
The Fighter
Ruckus, ruckus, ruckus
I smell the flesh and blood
The crimson moon's flight
I drink the slimy mud
I feel a mirror breaking
Inside my burning dream
The razor's sharp enough
Naked on the brim
I serve no king no lord
I see no wrong no right
The blood I spill is mine
Hoping...to win the fight
The sailors must know
Never trust the rum
The crimson moon shines
At the creepy conundrum
My quiver feels heavy
The bow demands focus
My heart beats aloud
Ruckus, ruckus, ruckus
