Nic Cage is Everything, Everything is Nic Cage
We are nothing but adaptation,
Looking through snake eyes.
So kick-ass,
And drive angry,
For those who face off,
Against the lord of war,
Will be gone in 60 seconds,
Sobbing masses will be bringing out the dead.
Only the weather man can,
Extinguish the fires of matchstick men,
But the family man,
And the wind talkers,
And the wicker man
They are the rock.
In the season of the witch,
You are a mere sorcerer’s apprentice,
Trapped in paradise,
While a national treasure,
Seeking justice in a city of angels
Is dying of the light.
Knowing,
They trespass next on the frozen ground,
Of a stolen vampire’s kiss,
A kiss of death.
Now a ghost rider,
Left behind,
Outcast.
