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Lyrics: Met him at the rider’s inn, Armor on and mood was grim. Said three words, and one was “stay,” Growled at those who looked my way. Doesn’t dance and doesn’t charm, Keeps a blade beneath his arm. But he brings me stolen rings, And very shiny, violent things. He’s broody and rude and a little unhinged, With a scar on his brow and a jaw that’s singed. He won’t say love, but here’s the proof: He’d burn the world and call it truth. Growls at kings and scoffs at fate, Picks me up when I’m out late. Won’t confess, but pulls me near, And snarls at men who get too clear. Once he set a town on fire, Just ‘cause some bard called me “squire.” I say, “love,” and he just grins— Says, “Next time, I’ll burn their kin.” He’s broody and rude and a little unhinged, With a scar on his brow and a jaw that’s singed. He won’t say love, but here’s the proof: He’d burn the world and call it truth. Let the ladies take their knights, Their poets, princes, shining lights. I’ll take mine with teeth and flame— A terror with a pet name. He’s broody and rude and a little unhinged, With a scar on his brow and a jaw that’s singed. He won’t say love, but here’s the proof: He’d burn the world... and call it truth.