The Violent One

The violent one's the quiet one, the one that walks in silence;
You better see him, better fear him, for all he brews is rage;
He's the one who'll come to you, and slit your fucking throat;
Guns are easy, and far too quick, for him he takes the knife;
You'll feel his suffering, feel his rage, four bladed on your throat;
He'll spill your blood and paint the walls, red water flowing free;
He'll chain you down, red water crown, rag down your wretched throat;
And light ablaze, the rag aflame, shining gold like Old Åsane;