That's poetry!

He used to ride around town on an old V-twin.
He was rough around the edges. He just didn't fit in.
And every now and then he'd run a red light.
And every now and then he get into a fight.
The people in the town came up with a plan.
All just afraid of what they didn't understand.

Well across the road.
They strung up a wire.
Knocked him off his bike.
And then they set him on fire.
Layed him down in a shallow grave.
They all just spit. And no one prayed.
They heard him say with his dying breath.
I'll be back for you and all of the rest.

You better look out all of you saints and sinners.
For the Return of the One Percenter.
The One Percenter's come back from the dead.
The One Percenter come back for your head.

The air got cold and the ground began to shake.
They found the mayor's head was sitting on a stake.
They heard the rumble of that old V-twin.
And everyone knew that he'd be back again.
For three days straight he terrorized the town.
Nothing that they did could bring him down.
Come out, come out all of you losers and winners.
For the Return of the One Percenter.

Ain't no difference between the saints and sinners.
For the Return of the One Percenter.
The One Percenter's come back from the dead.
The One Percenter come back for your head.
[Psychocharger: "Return of the One percenter"]