He built himself a cave
He built himself a name
And followers came
And followers came
He learned how to speak
He built his mystique
The finest antique
The finest antique
He found a sword to flail
Along the broken trail
And slaughtered the fail
And slaughtered the fail
He vowed every day
To hide the pain away
And fake it and play
And fake it and play
He cut the golden thread
He made them feel dread
Shadows that he led
Shadows that he led
He built his pop machine
To hide the silent screams
And tame the fantasies
And tame the fantasies
