A twisted man who brightens snow,

With whites of eyes and crimson glow,

Attracted many frightened faces,

Putting on a scarlet show.

A tapestry that tells a tale,

To rival all the others,

It only shows the good and kind;

His grinning mask it barely covers.

Centuries and scores ago,

There lived a king of evil,

His riches were marveled at by all,

Attempts to steal were feeble.

But soon he fell and there he lay,

Upon the marble floor,

Bleeding black and staining gray,

The thieves,

They wanted more and more.

They tore his throne right from the wall,

And tossed him in through time,

To where we stand this very day;

It's here he'll play his pantomime.

He shows us what they did to him,

But he sees inside our cores,

How scared we are that he'll change back,

To the monster that he was before.

He's capable of blood and thunder,

He knows it and he's not afraid;

Within the depths in which you've thrown him,

He rattles the bars of his dusty old cage.

They take advantage of his state,

His desperation set aglow;

Built just to pillage our very existence,

They wind him up,

And let him go.