From this chair.

I sit in despair under elms in this chair made of oak overwhelmed without care. . That wooden irony is what would inspire me to ignite this fires nightmare . So, from all of those sticks and all of that bark; from all of these trees that I've ripped apart; I warm my soul with the fuel that I stole from the elms and the oak of this fire I now stoke. . Now, from this chair . sitting right here . enjoying the trees . and the breeze trough their leaves; . I am left with no choice but to hear my own voice whispering like a disease... ..Saying, Throw another chair on the fire Feed the trees funeral pyre; Ever higher . Ever near . Overwhelmed . Under elms . From this chair of despair.