Stepson
I'm free, he can't touch me
Six feet down and there's no sadness
Hands and heads full
Old and hostile fists are pounding
Nothing's simple
No respect or meaning
Why the screaming
When he's gone, burn the house down
Too proud to come to me when you were dying
Well, look at the dash now you're frying
Hands and heads full
Old and hostile fist are pounding
Nothing's simple
No respect or meaning
Why the screaming
When he's gone, burn the house down
Nothing's simple
No respect or meaning
Why the screaming
Never whimper, hide your feelings
And when he's gone, burn the house down