[LYRICS] [Intro] [Music: Slow, heavy, grinding riff with a repetitive industrial clang.] [Verse 1: The Hand] <vocal: weary> This stone fist weighs me to the core, Don't know what it's even for. It whispers of a final war, A lock without a door. It feels the turning of the age, Wants to turn a darker page, To break out of this mortal cage, And fly into a rage. [Chorus] <vocal: deadpan> It's the Right Hand of Doom, a key straight out of Hell! Got a cosmic, dread purpose, or so the stories tell. But I just use it to punch things, and I do it pretty well... <vocal: spoken> ...Yeah. It's fun. [Verse 2: The Job] <vocal: monotonous> Another frog-thing, big and green, The ugliest I've ever seen. Some Nazi ghost, a death machine, Just wipe the whole slate clean. It's all so damn routine, you know? Just watch the blood and viscera flow, Put on a weird and bloody show, Then see where else I go. [Chorus] [vocal:deadpan] It's the Right Hand of Doom, a key straight out of Hell! Got a cosmic, dread purpose, or so the stories tell. But I just use it to punch things, and I do it pretty well... <vocal: spoken> ...Yeah. It's fun. [Verse 3: The Dream] [vocal:wistful] I'd rather have some pancakes now, A stack up to my brow. Or pet some cats and wonder how, To live a simple vow. But destiny won't disavow, This fire on my brow, It's not a life that they allow, I gotta take a bow. [Final Chorus] [vocal:angry] It's the Right Hand of Doom, a key straight out of Hell! Got a cosmic, dread purpose, or so the stories tell. But I just use it to punch things, and I do it pretty well... <vocal: spoken>...Yeah. It's fun. [Outro] [Music: The main riff grinds to a halt with a final, echoing clang of metal on stone.]
