Spot - Contest Lyrics

In senseless violence he defines his style
It's his amusement and suspense to be king of the pit
How steep he is
His fruitless gaze is out of focus
He's giving hell
It's all he can give
A justified black eye is what he needs
Spotlights, high voltage, the decibels raising the degrees of the thermometer
Tonight the club is humming like a hive
The mosh pit is his battlefield, his fever
Thirst for individuality
Desperately wanted to be someone
Defeated in his own game
Contesting
Muscle vs. thought
Air coming out from his lungs
The balloon of his ego implodes
Doesn't he know?
Violence comes back tenfold
No one can read blank pages of his mind
What he defends?
The ground he stands, we'll never know
Will he ever make amends?