The words of people once cut deep. Now my knife cuts through their sleep. The words they used to cause me pain Is what drove the knife through their brain. The hateful words they threw my way Is the reason I now must slay. You might think me an evil man. But that is part of my elaborate plan. No one will cross a beast like me. And their fear leaves me free. So cower, cower, one and all. I'll be the one to still stand tall. Their indiscretion led to demise. And their blood is my prize. Now my pride finally restored, By those who wronged me being gored. The lesson here is do me no wrong. Else that act will be your swan-song.