Stone Wishing-Tree

Pyromaniac

The world is dry

From the hot, hot sun

The ground is parched

It has begun

The corn is tinder

And I make my stand

With a blazing torch

Grasped in my hand

You gave me an ultimatum

But it was never really my choice

You can cut my tongue out of my head

But still, I’ll raise my voice

The game’s stepped up, my world’s unhinged

This train’s come off the tracks

Anarchist

Firestarter

Pyromaniac