The Good Son
As I kneel before the dark father, I know I've done good.
For he crests my face as a father showing love.
The bodies I've laid out for him, the souls I've collected.
No other is as good as me.
I'm fathers favorite.
I'm his good son.
My hands like my blade are stained with the blood of death.
They call me a madman.
I'm just a son who is loyal to his father.
Killing in his name is what he asks of me.
It's my pleasure to serve him, fore one day I will be the head of
the table.
Until then, I'm happy with being the good son.
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