Sandrider The Corpse
Breaking bread with the dragon
Stealing secrets from beggars
Sell the blueprints cheap
Resurrecting the bomb, but we don't forget its wake
We can smell the dead from here
Burning, bruised and mocked, fan the flames
This corpse will breathe again so help me
Terrify the peasants
Gather round and watch the corpse bleed to death and swoon
Loved by none we fade with age
Eyes wide the crowd looks on. The monster lives, a broken form
Buried under diamond soil. No epitaph. A barren stone
Precious few we mourn alone, beloved corpse beneath the ground