(Originally by Biffy Clyro)

Which of the witches do you belong?
The one with the eye patch or the one that's highly strung?
You know you can't trust anyone.
How do you capture a photograph?
Put it to sleep, pretend you're having a laugh?
I know you thought you'd had the last.

I'm a fire and I'll burn, burn, burn tonight.

The midget is frigid, I put it to you:
Who's got a match? I've got the petrol to set it too.
I know I shouldn't have trusted you.
It's making me tense when you're telling me:
It's just the facts that don't compute the classic way.
I guess I'm wrong again anyway.

I'm a fire and I'll burn tonight:
I'm a fire.