Rock Down in Hellfire

Go! Running across the desert heat, rising from the sand.

Death nipping at my heels, snap like a rubber band. Madness grips the

wheel as the wheels begin to spin. Raw, that motherfucker,

in a coffin made of tin. Rock down in the hellfire,

grinding that gear to the bone. You'll never capture that son, sitting up that

throne. Rock down in the hellfire, grinding that gear to the bone.

You'll never capture that son, sitting up that throne. Yeah!

Keep doing what you're doing, the world will get to you. So strap it