What hell can you wreck upon lone me?
My King and Queen have retreated,
And I am my own worst enemy.
Fiery stakes consume the clergy
Who told me forgiveness was dead.
What hell can you knaves wreck upon me?
Slaughtered soldiers leave their glory—
War stories of the conceited—
But I am my own worst enemy.
Ashes were made from stone beauty
Where I was not offered a bed.
What dark hell can you wreck upon me?
Fools suffer from the Devil’s glee,
Yet he left me to my own dread
For I am my own worst enemy.
Sound your cannons of victory.
Leave me to my body wasted.
What hell can you wreck upon me?
I am my own worst enemy.