Get the axe

Storytelling is his thing and he read about me in the daily newspaper "I love such jesters like you, antic face!" Ok... I stutter: "Get the axe out of your hand" And he tells me his mother called him Axel

Told you that you wasn't, so you testing what I predisposed Already caught a body in my mind, I call it pre-disposed I'm boutta, I'm boutta, I'm boutta, I'm boutta get the axe Keep running in the fire, never met a match

Time is all we need, she finally let out But I see her drawing maps if she can get out Now I wonder which of us will get the axe out And do the final blow

That once were unwalkpastable Move the bark Get the axe knock and walk under her doorway