Burned the heart right through the cage
I burned the act and I burned the stage
Burned the plot and I burned the script
I burned our house our home sweet crypt
Burned the tables,burned the wares
I burned the mantle and I burned the 

stairs
your sloe-eyed cat so [bad word] and grey
did not expect that auto-da-fe!
Well I burned the harvest! Scorched the 

earth!
And I burned the factum of my birth!
I gasolined the garden that you left
Its nurtured sod was fraudulent!
Those bright wildflowers that you grew
Well they were meaningless - I torched 

them too!
I burned the tomes up row by row
The family bible - first to go!
Well I burned the ledgers, cooked the 

books
And all your pictures' burning looks! 
Well I burned the harvest! Scorched the 

earth!
And I burned the factum of my birth!
I molotov'd the mattress of your tryst
The snakes in there uncoiled and hissed!
Well a satin bed's satanic sheets - they generate amazing heat!
I piled your dresses onto the chair
I smiled and torched the whole affair!
Well I burned the bedrooms,burned the kitchen
I burned it way past recognition!
And I burned our holdings, burned our records!
And both our gold rings and all our treasures! 
Burned that empty bassinet.
And for all I know, it's burning yet.

Lyrics by Michael Bradley
Copyright 2007 FurnaceSongs Record Co.
ASCAP

3/11/2014