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.