I want to rip your throat out,
I want to bleed you dry.
I want to be comeuppance,
I want to hear your cries.

I want to rip your throat out,
I want to bleed you dry.
My favorite song is Sympathy for the Devil,
And now I remember why.

There's a false sense of superiority
As you enter the scene.
You fuel my fiery rage,
Though it be but a dream.

Your words are nails on chalkboards,
Your eyes beady and unkind.
I want to rip your throat out,
And end the spew of lies.

I may be soft and docile,
But it won't take me very long,
To rip you shred from useless shred
With my storm siren song.

So be wary of the winds,
And be wary of the tide.
Be wary of the rain and thunder,
For the elements are on my side.