They call me Red. Red of the Wood.

Don’t confuse me with Red Ridinghood.

For I am not sweet. Not good within.

No, deep down inside, I am no good.

I do not mourn my deep rooted sin.

Nor that I am evil, no good within.

For I am my king, making my own rules.

Which means that I will always win.

At least that is what I tell all fools

That you need not heed somebody’s rules.

For there is really, no good, no bad.

And they believe it. For they’re all fools.

If you believe, there’s no good or bad

That your own rules will make you glad.

Keep on believing that this is true,

But in the end, you will be sad.

You may not think I come for you.

You might not believe that I am true.

But I am Red. Red of the Wood.

I am pure evil. I come for you.

You cannot thrust me out with good

Though you might be wishing that you could.

There is only One who can rescue you.

Only He can thrust me from your neighborhood.

But I am a shadow too subtle for you.

You still blame me for the things you do.

For I am Red. Red of the Wood.

My gates are open wide for you.