There's something off about you. You're paranormally blue. It's the eyes. Another strangled up spell. Thought I never could tell. Couldn't I? Well there's blood on your plans. It's dripping off of your hands. Into mine. Where you going all with that crowd? Blowing torches into clouds. What you say ain't what you do. Mouthing words don't make it true. Whatcha doin' all with that crowd? Blowing torches into clouds. It's what you say and what you do. What the f*ck is wrong with you. Mutator.