Stomp, stomp stomp.

All I hear through the wind,

Beneath the boot of regret.

And as my eyes begin to dance,

it doubles,

triples,

again,

and again,

and again,

until I am blind.

Stomp, stomp, stomp,

is all I hear,

all I feel,

beneath the boot of regret.

Stomp.

Stomp.

Stomp.

Beneath the boot of regret,

it never stops.

Stomp


Stomp



STOMP.