Throbbing; The vast deceiver Underdog, god of all men Crushing; bone and skin to the ground Dying, but still vital Where would it head me? Fresh, yet
Lack of motivation? At every occasion Tell me, did you earn your name? So why did you reckon it would bring you fame? Lack of understanding? It's kind
In the yard of the old man The ruin's shimmering The world's painted pale The conditions are at stale Flocks gathered from far away Hiding, still overly
When telling the fable of men The Demise of lies Let the Underdog be the narrator Behold the kingdom's rise Always being held down, the weaker part You