| A crumpled future in your fist
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| The killing streak ascends sun-kissed
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| And the firestarter from within
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| Pokes out from fever blistered grin
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| King Salamander -- that’s his name
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| A desert maker -- that’s his aim
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| The benign cremator, branding iron in his hand
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| Eager and willing to torch the land
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| All fire and brimstone
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| This jack-o-lantern
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| He likes to watch the buildings burn
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| His ardour smoulders -- phosphorous flies
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| He radiates with urgence to hypnotize
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| Stoke the furnace -- feed his need
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| This thirst for fire is all he sees
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| He’s the blazing rubber making tracks
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| The blue touch paper at your back
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| All fire and brimstone
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| This salamander king
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| He basks whilst all around him burns
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| 'Giddy-up, burn-up, not fade away'
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| These words ignite and pave his way
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| 'Giddy-up, burn-up, stoke it up and turn it up'
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| He sings these words in fervid frame
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| All fire and brimstone
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| This jack-o-lantern
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| He likes to watch the pyres burn
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| Jack be nimble -- jack be quick
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| Jack jump over the candlestick |