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The Hand That Rocks The Cradle
A man, a mastermind, a man of no remorse
Cruelty in his veins and cold frost in his gaze
The string bender, the man with nothing left to lose
He is the man behind the curtain veil at every sadistic play
He is the puppeteer and you are the victim on the string
You’ll dance for him at his command and never know a thing
Cold ambition in his mind, and malice in his heart of black
A man of endless knowledge and sinister to react
The purity of human life means nothing to this mysterious man
Cunning and deceptive always awaiting fate with a master plan
Humans are nothing but objects to be observed, dissected and repaired
He knows no concept of failure or limitation and knows nothing of love or care
His face expressionless, and a voice of no inflection
Emotion nonexistent in his heartless sense of hell
He is the puppetmaster, and the one who decides your fate
This world is doomed under his hand, and he knows this well
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