I go out on a stage and I howl for people. In me they see what they want to see -- some say the Lizard King, whatever that means, or some black-clad leather demon whatever that means... but really I think of myself as a sensitive, intelligent human being but with the soul of a clown which always forces me to blow it at the most crucial moment... a fake hero... a joke the gods played on me... it's okay, I accept the joke... and smile. Death old friend, death and my ****, I can forgive my injuries in the name of wisdom, luxury, romance. Words got me the wound and will get me well. All join now in lament of my ****, a tongue of knowledge in the feathered night. Boys get crazy in the head and suffer. I sacrifice my **** on the altar of silence.