There’s an unholy story that I want to tell,
About this Guy who had his soul to sell;
All he wanted was his name in history
But now, he’s gotten into some dirty story.

He had all the help he needed,
Working on this giant he breeded:
An armoured shell and steel cold padding,
A crushing grin and hell spawned fighting.

Then the tale It turned to sour
As the stubborn gray men we endorsed with power,
Turned their backs on he of whom they’ve fancied,
The superman pinpointing at their own inefficiency.

Now if the point of my story
Hasn’t made itself clear,
I’ll repeat it in words
That are for all to hear:

The cause of your demise
Is your own lies and fears,
Now go on trying to make
The villain disappear.