Underground in a mining town All he needed was some light to see He was accustomed to the supernatural darkness and low-visibility No stranger to the dark He had never seen the light
He was simply akin to his mining work His father did not like his bright son working Raging in a madhouse, he never saw his son again Fathers lose their son to disease, and sons lose their fathers to dull madness
Underground in a mining town It was always dark and many hadn't stopped dealing slaves Sunlight was scarce, and he wiped his eyebrow sweat The boy's shadow never saw the light of day It was always scared and the brave boy never saw his spirited shadow again Until he came out only for midnight-schooling and cheap women in neon streets
He was simply akin to his mother If someone had told him to stop digging, it was her It was his shadow, that took after his father The boy hated his own shadow, a solitary light flickered in the coal mine Not a shadow in sight
His father, in the mental asylum, heard stories over the grapevine Outward appearances are deceiving