| 1 | Anger rests in the bosom of folly. | |
| 2 | Are your palms sweaty, is your heart racing and is your voice caught within your chest?? | |
| 3 | In the bosom of such as these the spirit dwells in rhythmic silence. | |
| 4 | The puffy staff' s stuffy chests are stuffed with sufficient suffering. | |
| 5 | When these eyes flash their lightning the dark clouds in your breast make stormy answer. |