I can hear a lyre, Singing behind the fire. Liar, liar, pants on fire; The Devil is a guitar hero and he lives down in the mire.
Music tells you what to think And allows you to think for yourself at the same time. Music allows me to say what I mean, So this is why I write words that rhyme.
It's like splitting an atom; What's yours becomes mine and I hope I blow a mind. I had better write a song before the thought is gone, Before I bid you goodbye with a peace sign.
As flames dance up and down in the mist, A thought sparks into life. Who is the demon? The man or the myth? Dancing in the bushes; dancing in the night.
Bushido fighter, samurai; As time goes by I hear a tune. Like a sword swiping through a jungle vine, The words sink into my soul and wash away my pain and I am anew.