Bombs, bombs away!
The crowned prince of Gotham has come to play.
Will you stand by his side?
Or whimper, run and hide?
With nowhere to turn to
And no one to plead to,
Habits die hard.
Though you are scarred,
With the familiar sting of bruises and cuts that still ache,
Nothing hurts more than heartache.
That is why you’ll look at his face and accept his hand,
Because no one will ever understand,
Just how much his sinister grin and laugh
Makes you feel like he’s your better half.
This is your finale, hold your breath,
And accept how he pushes you towards your death.