Father, Lord, please – for it is I, a lamb lost among the many,
You’ve been there for me when I suffered as Husky Harris.
Hazed and bullied in the Nexus; came out somethin’ uncanny.
Emerged a leader with abundance of dreams, goals, and merits.
Baptized in self-isolation, bathed in the waters of that boggy swamp,
Surfacing with all the words to say, with visions of myself in power.
Images of my sheep shepherded by me, with the world in my hands –
Harper, Rowan, Strowman, Orton, and Hardy – allegiances by the hour.
I was standing by my window, on one cold and cloudy day
One by one, they deserted me, one by one I’m left alone, hurt by their lies.
In a vast stretch of an ocean in black and white, I was painted the colour red,
A hue of crimson that was meant to lead the lost, to lead the meager fireflies.
Cast aside in that familiar pain of isolation, inside I rotted, internally I was dead.
The son of a banker, grandson of a fighter, but also the son of a mother long gone,
Brother to Bo, his own believer, to Sister Abigail, taken so young but still with me –
She is always with me, in the squared circle, in the lantern as I march to my song.
Nothing more, nothing less, such is the tale of the blood that lies in my family tree.
When I saw that hearse come rolling for to carry my mother away
Then it was foolish of me – foolish of me to think I could lead my own band of others,
But they leave me too; the Black Sheep goes his own way, Rowan flew from his cage.
Harper left to a place to ‘stablish his own Order; he left like Sister Abigail and Mother.
As for that dirty, generational bastard Randy Orton, he may one day face my full rage.
Brother Matt Hardy, he was my worst enemy but also my own best friend after he woke,
As I connected with him, in a twist of fate an eater of worlds allied with master of deletion.
The greater chain that bound us had snapped – he left, my soul shattered, my heart broke.
From circumstances out of mine control, my own desolation was nearing closer to completion.
Will the circle be unbroken – by and by, Lord, by and by
No matter what, no matter how hard I tried, everything around me would always fall,
Such as the pursuit of toppling the giant on high, the one known as Big Match John –
The proponent of Hustle, Loyalty, and Respect as always would manage to stand tall,
Though my endeavors to turn him into a monster failed, my impetus by then was gone.
There were others to halter me, the likes of Rollins, Reigns, and Ambrose of The Shield,
Men like John, Randy, and The Rock and Kane – always somethin’ to take my opportunity.
The powers that be in the grand scheme, gave me new directions, then give my path yield,
Blame of which goes to the fixtures and the puppeteers that pull the strings against me.
There’s a better home a-waitin’, in the sky, Lord, in the sky
Another time, another place, I was given chance to fix my course against the man in black,
Was once more than a man, was now less than one, could he be put away with a Last Ride?
Surely, oh surely it would be that simple – he was no longer the legend, just man with cracks.
As to be expected, this would be for naught; could never succeed, no matter how hard I tried.
Against he, against Kane, the inevitable force known to many as the Brothers of Destruction,
The world was taken from my hands, my words meant nothing, my losses served as erasure.
Never would I be able to back up mine words, given these years of damn, damn obstruction,
All with respect and gratitude to the man known throughout the world as The Undertaker.
I said to that undertaker, “Undertaker, please drive slow”
Lord, if this be my fate, take away my sanity, take away my flesh, take away my meat,
Remove me from this place, and put another in my soul, someone who can get it done.
Crucify that version, make one anew, and mould it into someone who could not be beat.
As I don this new mask, I take these powers you bestow to me – first on my list is John.
Claim his soul, turn him into the monster he hid from the world in his guise of being a face –
A face that ran the place, for he was a false shepherd, he has led your little lambs astray,
I will rend him from this industry, remove him from history, eliminated from time and space.
This I vow, as I add him to my body count for you, Lord – so that I can again find my way.
“For this lady you are carrying Lord, I hate to see her go”
I pledge thee this, My Lord, for they will cry tears of blood, whilst I shed mine from gold,
Taking from them what they took from me, if I can’t be a shepherd, then I must be a fiend.
With my fingers down their throat and their shoulders on the floor, their blood runs cold.
Mask with a Cheshire smile – watch over me as this federation will forever on be cleaned.
For all those who left me, stood against me, watched me as I crumbled to the potter’s ground,
Know that I will be coming for you with no haste – should any of you take of that offered cup,
You’ll be staring at the lights, for I’ve had enough; I’m the epitome of the best, pound for pound.
As the life fades from your eyes, as numbness takes you over, only then will you’ve had enough.
Will the circle be unbroken – by and by, Lord, by and by
Until then, know I am not finished with you, any of you, not until I say that I am finished,
You can’t touch me, you can’t hurt me, you only need to survive my wicked, cruel methods.
Then, only then, will you feel your morale reduced to nothing, your spirit gone, diminished.
As above, so below; as it was taken from me, it is now taken from you – begone your essence!
Thank you, my Lord, for hearing my prayers – let them come true and wash away all of my sins.
Give me my fireflies once more, let them sing loudly for me in their chorus – I am tired of quiet.
For a time, there’s a season, a time to love, a time to hate, a time to live, a time to die; it begins.
In Your name Lord, I pray; now I lay me to sleep, pray to you my soul to keep, your lamb: Bray Wyatt.
There’s a better home a-waitin’, in the sky Lord, in the sky