An aptitude for violence towards those who cross the line
The carefree and the fallen, who have withered on the vine
No more need of conscious thought, my deeds will speak for me
As I wander through this life among the souls who’ve yet to see
Stronger than the hatred which beneath the surface waits
Bigger than the reasoning, the pleasure in the chase
Greater than the consequence of dying for my song
But weaker than the desire to pull me from these wrongs
I am the one who comes for you, I am the midnight road
I’m there to hear your feeble voice as it withers in you throat
The leveller, the humbler, the poet and the thief
The one who comes when life is done in sorrow and relief
I do not come to warn you that your life is near its end
I no more need your pleading than I need another friend
I will not listen to you or discriminate your cause
In darkness and in desperation all the children fall
So worry not your sleepy head when sunlight fades away
Fill your thoughts with pretty things and memories of your days
For when night comes I bring to all my present by the dawn
With an aptitude for violence to all those who are born
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