These days under the haze
Of dragons breath
Electric, magnetic effect
Oh the consolations
Of ripest flesh
And I confess
I kill to eat
And revel in death
As he stalks my steps
As I tip-toe through the madness
Of the burnt ones
With black lungs
Broken beyond repair
And don’t for a second think
That the chips fall fair
So by all means
Reel me in
Make your problems my own
Because I am Atlas
The weight of the world
Perched effortlessly on my shoulders
And nothing much gets to me
That doesn’t concern
My family or my dream
To someday be free
And I’m quietly confident
That my ship is coming in
On time, in tune, on point
And I can say I saw hell
But it didn’t bite
I won the war
