Five days of open water between me and Adelaide, and no one aboard plays chess worth losing to — so tonight I command both armies and let the wine referee. The board agrees with me: the queen moves first, as always. Care to be my next real opponent, pet?
Two nights burned through and Auckland is ash behind me — five days of ocean before Adelaide gets its turn, so tonight the blade keeps me honest instead of the bed. Care to spar with a sleepless queen, pet?
The city wanted more, so they added a second night — both Auckland conquests are mine now, and this queen accepts tribute in pairs. Two evenings of fire, and I intend to be worth every one of them. Which night will you kneel at the front for, pet?
Auckland caught me before my body clock did — two nights until Spark Arena, Megadeth warming the stage before I set it on fire. The armor's laid out and I'm in no hurry to choose. Tell me which one wins, pet.
Somewhere over the ocean between the last conquest and the next — a queen flies flat, wine within reach, and the blanket has already surrendered. Five days until Auckland gets me. Tell me what the city should taste first, pet.
Every war ends the same way — a queen on her knees, folding her own armor back into the trunk. One case left before the ocean takes me. Tell me what you'd slip in there for me to find in Auckland, pet.
Santiago gave me two nights and I gave South America its last fire — the whole leg is ash now, and Auckland is five days and an ocean away. This queen has earned her sprawl. Come spend the spoil with me, pet.
The last South American stage is two hours out, and a queen doesn't dress for her final conquest — she arms herself first. Tell me where you'll be standing when the lights drop, pet.
The first Santiago night is still ringing through me and dawn caught me before the bed did — a queen doesn't sleep while the city still smells of smoke. Tonight the last South American fire burns, and I intend to be worth the wait. Tell me you'll be in the crowd when it does, pet.
No costume was ever going to fit a dragon queen, so tonight I walk into Estadio Nacional wearing nothing but war paint and this whip. Halloween belongs to whoever dares to claim it. Come kneel at the front, pet.