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A crumpled future in your fist |
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The killing streak ascends sun kissed |
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And the firestarter from within |
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Pokes out from fever blistered grin |
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King salamander that's his name |
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A desert maker that's his aim |
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The benign cremator, branding iron in his hand |
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Eager and willing to torch the land |
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All fire and brimstone |
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This jack-o-lantern |
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He likes to watch the buildings burn |
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His ardour smoulders, phosphorous flies |
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He radiates with urgence to hypnotise |
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Stoke the furnace, feed his need |
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This thirst for fire is all he seeks |
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He's the blazing rubber making tracks |
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The blue touch paper at your back |
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All fire and brimstone |
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This salamander king |
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He basks while all around him burns |
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`giddy-up, burn-up, not fade away' |
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These words ignite and pave his way |
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`giddy-up, burn-up, stoke it up and turn it up' |
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He sings these words in fervid frame |
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All fire and brimstone |
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This jack-o-lantern |
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He likes to watch the pyres burn |
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Jack be nimble, jack be quick |
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Jack jump over the candlestick |
