• In the pouring crimson rain
    A bloodred beast is born again
    Reeking vengeance on the rest
    Breaking bones, tearing flesh

    Ignorant lords drunken, full of wine
    But their goblets are filled with something...
    Not from a vine
    Too incoherent to notice the peculiar taste
    Crimson stains on each ones face

    And the Beast is laughing, because he knows
    Where the lords go, each ones dearset friend also goes
    Too bad they're drunk, because they just don't know
    Maybe they'll sober up when they find the toe...