I am as playful as the wind of November
And as hard and cold as the ice of December
Where ever I go and cast my eyes
Women shriek and men doth cry
To face me, is to face obliteration,
To anger me, is to know the true face of damnation.
I am as playful as the wind of November
And as hard and cold as the ice of December
Where ever I go and cast my eyes
Women shriek and men doth cry
To face me, is to face obliteration,
To anger me, is to know the true face of damnation.