Red is the blood of the one who sits
In the corner weeping tears
Red is the one who is cold and tired
Crying for passing years

Bright is the song of the young man singing
Who hears the whistle blow
Bright are the hopes of the young man wanting
To defeat his only foe

Dark is the hour in which he comes
To claim his procuring cry
Dark is the soul of the one who is vengeful
To prod his foe in the eye

Many are the dreams of the young man dreaming
Vast is the young man's heart
Many are the foes, and, against his wishing,
Soon do the killings start

Fall to your knees he cries to the others
Fall to your knees he screams
You are the ones he yells at their bodies
Who ruined all my dreams

He in a bind and his dreams in a blender
He wanders around the room
He's in a daze and their screams stay to linger
As he wonders about his doom

He seems to come out short-handed at first
Before the battle is done
His enemies are kept in mind
Of which there stands only one

He must fight another soon and
He must stand alone
He defeats another's mind
And that mind is his own

We are transient beings, sir
We travel as we please
So take these words I write to you
And put yourself at ease
This man that I have spoken of
Who his enemies did find
He is a creation
Solely of my screwed-up mind...