Know Me By Mine Iron Tread

Why now,
you recognise too slow,
the one danger you should know,
I am the madman in the stands,
and the marksman at the show;
I am the cripple in the cage,
and the roaring from within,
I am the desert full of rage,
I am storm bloated black
with sin-ful winds.

I was the dark god on the throne,
the woven bones below the door,
I was the weak one lying dead,
I was the leper on the floor -
in rags, enraged, in ruins posed,
the beaten bent on breaking more.

I will be waiting at the show,
warding the one thing you won’t know,
I have a dead hand in your lap,
I’ll be the faithful first to go;
and the huntsman at the wheel,
and the hateful one up here,
waiting with the scaling deeds,
the judgement drawing near.

I am a smiling mask of me,
painted wet on peeling clay,
I have the drive to disappear
and let the Others up to breathe.

There’s only one thing that you know,
you’re all a part of Passion’s show,
and I decide what you can hear,
and I decide what you can know,
and I decide what you can bear,
I ounce out pain-filled blow by blow.
You heard me,
I’m the only way,
you heard me,
I’m the only way,
you hear me,
I’m the only way,
he’s let me be the only way.