A violins Song can be heard in the crisp morning air.
Its owner has pink, strawberry milk, hair.

his tusks, long and pointed like the ax on his back.
his resolve may waver but it will never crack.

the kindness that's given he returns tenfold
and the injustice he returns can not be controlled.

Though he wants peace, others call for blood.
and with their chants, his head will flood.

He knows peaceful Government is just a facade
So now it is time for Blood for the blood god.