There are days I want to wake up and start a little fire
Then maybe drive a little further and perhaps I'll start another.
Then again I think that I'll probably keep it going
Just lighting fires all around me so that I won't be cold
I'll lie down and listen to the sirens wail off in the distance
I imagine it to sound like banshees howling at the flames
The fires will pop and crack as they spread outwards and inwards
Bearing down on my position determined to consume its creator
A symphony of terror and chaos, a force hungry for carnality
Lives ruined and dreams rendered to piles of soggy ashes
Air, ripe with the stench of death and misery, choking lungs
The sky a slurry of blackened smoke wafting like after thoughts
And I'll think to myself "what a wonderful world"