Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.
The baker kneads; the weaver knits;The smithy plies the sun-bright steel;The potter turns; the farmer plants;The miller grinds his dusty meal.While I my quill in trembling handPen odes to please the fickle throng;The greatest craftsman of them all, Save only she who sings my song.
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The baker kneads; the weaver knits;The smithy plies the sun-bright steel;The potter turns; the farmer plants;The miller grinds his dusty meal.While I my quill in trembling handPen odes to please the fickle throng;The greatest craftsman of them all, Save only she who sings my song.
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Be dangerous, darling, for the whole world rises and falls at your feet.
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