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Fire Starter
It's raining outside
Clouded, wet and uncertain
These roads are treacherous
You'll catch your death
And then again we're still here
The inside of our home remains dry
Warm, clean and flammable
And the Fire Starter is bound to pay a visit
With an appetite for ash
And a fetish for crimson scars
Wielding flame by hand
And psychosis by mind
And we're left to face the tides of oil
Gasoline, kerosine, paper and plant
While he stalks us, two fingers raised
And sends a horizontal spark with its trail blazing.
