Two weeks to take a song from conception to completion to competition!

Swamp Monster

This song was created for Game of Bands round 115 : "Florida Man"



Freak of nurture, Flor’da born

Innocence lost, earned your scorn

In defense, my head ain’t right

In a sense, a parasite

Sucked love out of my mother

Real bastard of a brother

My ex spins old wives tales

Their voice whispers, barbs, impales

Lucid as Lucifer’s fire

Head bugged out, wearing a wire

Tapped in, Dark Lord’s will is all

Dial out, can't connect your call

I’m going to burn away,

I don't see the point of me.

I see the point of others,

These significant others

Making more insignificant me.

I'm going to burn today

Just don't see the point of me

I see the point of others,

Great nemeses and lovers

But I'm pointless and in-between.

Loved ones left me in the lurch

Loved once, left inside this church

Turned to others’ good graces

Still possessed, dark horde chases

Haunted over the threshold

These demons have grown too bold

Followed me into kind arms

Hellfire trips no alarms

This altar is infested,

I know I’m being tested

This paradise is depraved

On my grave, you will be saved

I’ll see evil turned away

I now know the point of me.

I will protect the others,

The significant others

That have given my life to me (x2)

What next when the Anti-Christ

Shows up at church for advice?

Let him in, absolve his sin?

When that’s left, what’s left of him?

Turn my eyes into my skull

Parasites have left my soul

Bitten down to a birthmark

Evil enters soulful hearts

Raised from labrat to churchmouse

Demons, leave be our God’s house

No harm to our world of good

Don’t make hellholes out of wood

Buckets full of gasoline

Will wash this holy house clean

Mount the steeple, fill a flume

Spark, watch others run, consumed

Fire trucks, news vans scream through night

Witness to my black spotlight

The crowd below points above

Monster turns to ash for love

Burn, burn, burn…

“Flor’da man seen dousing flame.

He's a hero! Locals claim."

Burn, burn, burn…

Burn Burn Burn it down!

Raze the roof into the ground

Finally all the others,

Lovers brothers and mothers

Can forgive my soul, hellbound.

This entry is based on the stories of many Floridians blaming their outlandish crimes on demonic? possession-- because the reality of the actual cases is so dark, we decided to create a fiction based on the general theme. -- Team 12


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