We fighters rarely sleep ok.
We know not of surrender’s sway.
We know the breaks & we know strife.
We well know the way of the knife.
We are your great & mighty foes.
We’re not the types to take as goes.
We know not of the softer side.
We die by battle & by pride.
We can’t conceive to reconcile
We don’t know honeyed words; just bile.
The soft retreat of bed’s embrace…
Can’t comfort like leather & mace.
Insanely quiet solid rest…
Is not where fighters prove their best.
Release required for REM.
We fighters release pure mayhem.