I sin everyday, for seven days straight, harness black magic in the palm of my hand
psalms in demand, hostile the climate when it rained ultraviolet rain drops from a island
sirens call for woman and man, for them to lick their face, and eyeballs
my call sings to poets and prophets, the omen is knowledge
alone with a promise, I'm a poet with promise, surpassing John Milton and Edgar Allan Poe
A serpent vexed a dragon's zone, I have better malice known
Etched a lavish poem on tablets of fire and brimstone
the sire will be known, my pyre's fire is alone
My fire will be hope, hell's flames enveloping seldom people
A flower that grew a steeple, my blue depression is why the flu is lethal
Choosed by Hosea, battle a blade of hunger with a sharp metal sword
I settle scores with hellish lord, made them lost in fire; and seldom course
Never gave welts remorse, they're under the mystic Bible Belt
I'll hit you with the strap of the Bible Belt, and make you mine
Create a rhyme, sedate a time; of playful times
Where I was a boy, writing poems in a terrain of light
Save the night with light and brimstone, a siren to the zone
A poet, of fire and brimstone, the siren will be known