Torment Me by K. L. Taylor-Lane

Remember, remember, the fifth of November,
Fireworks, Betrayal and Rot.
We have no desire,
To put out the fire,
She’ll never escape from our plot.
Ashes Boys, Ashes Boys, she’s locked in our sight,
And we’ll tear down her King once we’re done with this night.
All that remains will be blood and bone,
Grimy old London we’ll continue to own.
By The Ashes Boys she’ll be caught dressed in red,
With malicious intent, a high price on her head.
Ashes Boys, Ashes Boys, let the flames rise,
Ashes Boys, Ashes Boys,
It’s time for her demise.