Seed Of Arson - Crowpath

Want to sleep to stories from his stepfather

This lullaby of drunken laughter created the son of sulphur

One day he stole the lighter and made up his first fire

But unlike the stories he got no publicity, no glory

His longing increased and he spent all money on gasoline and matches

Over the years we saw him transfer from small pyromaniac to one of the greatest

in arson

He was the infected wound of this little town, the disease they resent

He wanted to be the master

He continued with the ambition to fulfill his mission