I've been kicking [bad word] since the dawn of time
I'm just a killing man that's reached my killing prime
I burn and I plunder as it suits my desire
The weapon of my choice is "great balls of fire"

So why, I ask, it doesn't make much sense
That a man of my stature should have to wear a dress
I mean what, may I inquire, were you thinking on that day
When conjured up for a man like me a robe that looks so [bad word] 

(ahhh! Sit right back and your troubles melt away)
(ahhh! He uses fire but his robe looks so [bad word] 

I was taught my craft at the dawn of pain
You may not like my methods but you'll surely know my name
I just think incendiary thougts and my hands burst into flames
few moments later and you'll never be the same

So why, I ask, it doesn't make much sense
That a man of my stature should have to wear a dress
I mean what, may I inquire, were you thinking on that day
When conjured up for a man like me a robe that looks so [bad word] 

(ahhh! Sit right back and your troubles melt away)
(ahhh! He uses fire but his robe looks so [bad word] 

So if you're embrassed and you hang your head in shame
You'd like an opportunity to redeem your worthy name
Well just remember this when next you look to kill
That a man who's [bad word] skilled can look quite good in twill

So why, I ask, it doesn't make much sense
That a man of my stature should have to wear a dress
I mean what, may I inquire, were you thinking on that day
When conjured up for a man like me a robe that looks so [bad word] 

(ahhh! Sit right back and your troubles melt away)
(ahhh! He uses fire but his robe looks so [bad word]