I feel like Varg Vikernes, I feel like all the sickness
I feel like Vikernes with all this ammo in my hand
Driving around drunk, shooting people, don't belong
Park where I stood
In my shelter in the woods
Rolling backwoods like I'm Bones
Black metal, inner circle stones
Kvlt morose teen, baby, call me Count Grishnackh
All the fuckboys slack
I'm counting stacks, I'm counting stacks
Driving and shooting and amping and screaming and burning every dusk to dawn
I feel like Grishnackh, making all these stacks to floor
Packing ammos in the trunk
Nose bump, burning chapels till they're nothing more than junk
Evil corporations, Ronald McDonald Trump
Sometimes I just feel like jump
Society treat me scum

Feel like Varg Vikernes
Feel like Varg
Feel like, feel like Varg Vikernes
Feel like Varg

I feel like Varg Vikernes, making all these stacks
I feel like Varg Vikernes, getting all this cash
I feel like Count Grishnackh, I'm wearing all black
Except my pale skin and the blood over my chest
Call me teenage trash but I'm channeling spells so fast
You can't see me nowhere, where? Looking in the woods
Find me nothing, skrr, my stealth just sharpening
Burning all churches down, then fleed to dungeon's darkness
I look like Varg, getting cash
Call me Count Grishnackh, I'm wearing all black
I look like Varg, getting cash
Call me Count Grishnackh, I'm wearing all black, all black
I'm wearing all black
Count Grishnackh