Even beasts will break and fade

Let me see your wound again: I feel I need the laugh.
Walk me through your injuries: I want to feel them bleed,
your followers, I want to see you suck
their sympathy, I want to hear you play it
like a treated violin. I want to watch you
claiming you're not in this for the pain,

because I love to see a monster turning babyface for bigots;
I love to see the taming of the far too proudly vicious;
and I know you're looking in my eyes
and calling kettles black:
perhaps I'll walk you through my injuries
and listen to you laugh.