All language subtitles for REACHER E03-E

Previously on Reacher...

Lieutenant Colonel
Francis Xavier Quinn.

Picked up extra cash selling
military secrets to hostile nations.

And now you want to find him.

- Yeah.
- So maybe we can help each other out.

CI. Teresa Daniel.

I think she got caught snooping on Beck
and something happened to her.

You need to find Quinn. While you're
doing that, you can help me find Teresa.

Keys are in the truck
and there's a GPS in there.

- They're expecting you there in six hours.
- Not a problem.

Dry as Utah on Sunday. No drugs.

No body to get rid of.

It's a loyalty test.

Making the delivery
proves I can be trusted.

You've got Neagley.

Can you run down the jackets
on a few names?

Paul Van Hoven...

Chapman Duke

- and Angel Dole.
- You're dirty.

You're a cop.

What's the holdup?

Angel talks too much.

Angel Doll say anything to you?

Said lots of things.

Guy doesn't know when to shut up.

He mention anything
he may have just found out?

Something important?

No. Why?

He told me he had news...

but he wouldn't elaborate.

Called Beck direct so he could
hear it straight from his mouth.

Little bitch is always trying
to jump up the ladder.

Get out. You're off the clock.

- What about you?
- I got shit to do.

Now kindly fuck off.

You'll take your skin off.

Bouge.

Rusty keeps cleaner under the sink.

Takes care of any mess. Tiens.

Leftovers up for grabs?

Stew's on simmer, coffee's on the hob.

Smells good.

Appreciated.

So...

who's Rusty?

He's the mechanic.

Insists on washing
his greasy hands in the sink.

Cars in Beck's fleet are pretty new,

and those ATVs in the garage
don't look like they get much use.

Kind of odd,
having a full-time mechanic on staff.

I don't ask questions, I just, uh...

How do you say? Um...

scrub the floors.

Grande Maison,

ça fait beaucoup à nettoyer.

Vous parlez français?

My mother was from Paris. You?

Le Havre. Not so nice as Paris.

So, what brings you to Maine?

I grew up by the water
and want to study marine biology.

Some of the best schools for it
are in New England,

so I save to study here.

- That's a lot of money.
- Mr. Beck pays well.

It's the only reason I'm here,

up late, working my cul off
to prepare some big 50th birthday party

for a rich man who never says thank you.

Let's go.

Thought I was off the clock.

Beck has questions.

Something about Angel Doll's
voicemail isn't adding up.

- Then ask Angel Doll.
- He's not answering.

Already told you,
he didn't say anything to me.

Tell Beck yourself.

What are you, made of fucking lead?

Move your ass.

Angel Doll did some research on that guy
that tried to kidnap Richard.

Okay.

He ran the plates on that pickup
that prick was driving.

And it turns out, it belongs to a group
that we did some business with.

Rug customers?

Don't worry about the business.

Worry about why the kidnapper
that you described

doesn't match anybody
in the group of men that used that truck.

Not one.

Either their truck was stolen,

or you're a fucking unreliable witness.

You already know I ran
a special investigation unit for years.

My observation skills
are as good as they get.

So, you saying the truck was stolen?

Don't you think that'd be
one hell of coincidence?

Most likely, these guys
you've done business with

expanded their personnel trying to grow.

It'd explain why they decided to make

a sloppy power move
like going after Richard.

They wanted to send some kind of message.

A rug business message.

Are you certain he was using an Uzi?

Not an MP5K?

Again, former military. I know my guns.

All right, message received.

But they're sure as hell
making it hard to reply.

Can't get in touch with them.

It's like they fell off
the face of the Earth.

- It makes no sense.
- Makes perfect sense.

They made a play at your son,
now they're laying low.

But they won't do it forever.
They'll hit again.

So we need to find them and take them out
before they make their next move.

I can do it,

but not unless you tell me
everything you can about them.

You need to stay quiet
and keep doing your job.

My job is to protect you and your son.

How can I do that
if you keep me in the dark?

Trust me or fire me.

I'll do whatever the hell
I want to, when I want to.

We're done!

You find anything?

And then some.

You've caught up with
a real bunch of sick individuals.

Lay it out for me.

Paul Van Hoven.

Dishonorable discharge for punching
his captain's eye clean out of its socket.

Eighteen months in Leavenworth.

Served an additional 18 when he used

his bare hands to tear off a CO's finger.

You throw down with this guy, boss?

Hoping I don't have to.
Guy's twice my size.

Last time I saw a guy twice your size
was on Mount Rushmore.

- What about the other two?
- Angel Dole

was Paulie's buddy in the brig.

He did eight years for sexually assaulting
a female lieutenant.

Real nice guy.

- Real dead guy.
- Kudos.

Last but not least, Chapman Duke.

Former cop turned criminal lackey
with a rap sheet longer than my leg.

- Want to hear the specifics?
- No.

I got what I need. Thanks.

All these Boy Scouts?
You need help on this one.

It's under control.

I don't know how my target's
involved in all this, but...

the fact that he's involved at all
means I don't want you coming in.

Reacher, who is this guy?

Someone I thought I dispatched years ago.

Quinn?

Tell me where you are, right now.

I sent you my number.

Don't try tracking this phone's location.
It won't work.

- This is a secure federal line.
- Reacher, wait...

Bye, Neagley.

- What's up?
- I need you to drop a car for me

a mile south of the house at midnight.

Leave it unlocked with a towel
and a change of clothes inside.

Why?

I need to get back into Bizarre Bazaar.

Clean up a little mess I made.

Gate surrounds the property.

I'm gonna have to improvise
a way out of here.

Car will be back
where you left it before daybreak.

All right. What are you
gonna do in the meantime?

Sleep while I can.

Fuck me.

I said to leave a car.

You don't need to be here.

If you're going to Bizarre Bazaar,

I'm coming to look for Teresa.

Suit yourself.

Give me the rundown on Beck.

He's a scumbag.

Does seem to care about his kid, though.

Hell-bent on finding who went after him.

A reasonable reaction.

Yeah.

The more he looks into it,
the more likely he is

to find out the whole thing's bullshit.

We need to make him think
the kidnappers are no longer a threat.

So, we convince Beck someone
who never came after him to begin with

isn't coming after him again?

How?

No idea yet.

And this man you're after, Quinn,

any clue on his role in all this?

Working on it.

Look, I'm worried about Teresa, okay?

So, what did he do to you?

He didn't do anything to me.

It was a friend of mine.

Sergeant First Class Dominique Kohl.

There it is up ahead.

Park around back.

What are you doing?

Picking the lock.

Angel Doll never closed up.

Who the fuck's Angel Doll?

Susan Duffy, meet Angel Doll.

He was gonna blow my cover.

Would've gotten me killed.

Teresa, too, maybe.

Seems like a fair trade.

Might as well make the most out of it.

Thanks for the hand, Angel Doll.

Okay.

Reset password.

Digital print off.

New password.

"Nomar-4-Eva."

Retype password.

There.

Okay.

We got a lot of ground to cover.

Mm. What about him?

He'll be here when we get back.

Check every trunk, crate, box.
Look for loose floorboards,

uneven seals in the wall.

They could have her hidden anywhere.

But we leave everything
exactly as we found it.

Copy that.

Whole goddamn night
with nothing to show for it.

She's lost as ever.

We know she's not here,

and that's progress.

Duffy...

What?

We need to open Container 13.

He's not using it.

Teresa could be in one of these.

She's not.

No electric running to any of 'em for air.

They don't want her suffocating.

And how long, do you think,
till someone finds him?

These containers are out to pasture.

No one's gonna open 'em any time soon.

Blood's always a pain to clean up.

How often do you do this?

Two guys
who run trucks for Beck,

returning the one they took yesterday.

They see us, they'll kill us.

Then we shoot 'em first.

We can't. Workers arrive in a few hours.

One stray bullet hole
or shell on the ground,

Beck will know someone's onto him.

First suspect will be the new guy.

The hell?

Angel said he'd meet us here.

Car's gone. Probably got tired
of waiting for your slow ass.

Can't control the traffic, Bellinger.

Look, he is here.

A.D.! Where the hell's your car?

You're supposed to
give us a lift back to...

Where the hell is he?

A.D.?

Is that blood?

Take your hands off my friend,

and I'll remove
the crowbar from your body.

We'll need to open Container 14.

Thanks for
helping me look for Teresa.

Thanks for
helping me take out the trash.

No idea what you're talking about.

If they see you with Angel Doll's gun,
you're as dead as he is.

I'll hide it.

The team and I

will go through the laptop in the morning.

I'll update you on what we find.

Sounds good.

- Duffy?
- Yeah.

Clothes.

Oh.

Right.

Thanks.

- Okay.
- Okay.

Night, Duffy.

Good night.

Why, our trucks are ready, clean
tags, and they'll be good to go in a few.

Yeah, what good does that do
if there's not enough guys to move it?

I mean, am I the only one with any idea
how fucking huge this deal is for us?

Hey, look who it is.

At least you show up for work.

What's going on?

A big shipment's coming in.
It's all hands on deck.

Except the two drivers
that were supposed to take it in.

What two drivers?

Bellinger and Sklar.

Christmas Eve, and the fucking elves
are missing in action.

If this deal gets fucked up,
heads are gonna roll, Duke.

I'll call the Nichols brothers
from Portsmouth.

I can get 'em
to cover the shift for five grand.

Just let me do it.

I can do the work of two of your men,
and I'm already on payroll.

No, you're on the payroll
to do what I tell you to do.

And today,
you're gonna take Richie into town.

He wants to go shopping or some shit.

Just keep an eye on him, make sure
he stays down there most of the day.

Understood?

Understood.

You shouldn't keep messing with Paulie.

I heard what you did to him in the gym.

Bad move. The guy's a psycho.

If he's such a psycho, why does your dad
let him live at his house?

He doesn't.

Julius McCabe does.

Who's Julius McCabe?

My dad's boss.

Makes Paulie look like a pacifist, so just
pray you never have to meet the guy.

So that's what's got your dad
so worked up today.

When he said heads were gonna roll,
he was talking about his own.

Exactly what kind of business are he
and this McCabe guy doing

that's got him so worried?

I already told you... rugs.

Richard, I killed a cop
and upended my life to save yours.

Least you can do is tell me
what I'm involved in here.

Look, I've had to make my money
however I can,

but that doesn't mean
I'm willing to die over it.

So just... help me out here.

Exactly how much danger
is this job putting me in?

They...

They just sell rugs.

I've heard your generation
refuses to grow up.

It's not for me.

I'm getting a birthday gift for my dad.

It's his 50th.

So I've heard.

Big party and all that.

Thought your dad would be
a little past toys by now.

Just a minute.

Uh, yeah, he always used
to talk about this Roy Rogers cap gun

he had when he was little.

It was handed down from my grandpa.

Yeah, Dad said
he took it everywhere with him,

driving the town nuts,
shooting caps off all over the place.

And then, one day,
his Sunday school teacher confiscated it,

and was supposed to give it back,
but she lost it.

He used to talk about that pistol the way
you talk about a lost dog or something.

I think it's how his whole obsession
with guns got started.

The owner called me last week,
said he found one in great condition.

Oh, man, there it is.

Must be tough trying to find a present
for a millionaire who has it all.

Only thing he doesn't have is time.

Not for himself, not for me,

definitely not
for tracking down an old cap gun.

I just hope he likes it.

I'm sure he will.

Ah. You found it.

Ain't she a beaut?

Well, while you two figure that out,
I'm gonna go hit the head.

Yeah, sure. I'll meet you out front.

There's a little mark on the butt,

- but I can totally fix that.
- Oh.

Hey. What do you got?

Something big's coming in today.

Beck's sweating over it.

I tried to get to the warehouse,
but they stuck me with the kid,

and he's not offering up anything.

You find anything about it on the laptop?

Only what you just told me.

The shipment's scheduled
to arrive this afternoon,

but this stuff's cryptic as shit.

No invoice, no manifest.

Mr. Doll was crap at his job.

Or maybe he just wasn't kept in the loop.

I'm on the inside,
and you know as much as I do.

No one's telling me a damn thing.

All right, for now,

Villy and I are gonna stake out the docks
for that delivery.

We'll see what we can see.

But then we're just searching
blindly again, like last night.

Every time we go looking for something...

Quinn, Teresa, any kind of evidence...
we come up empty. Why?

Because all the important details are
being kept inside the upper echelon...

Beck, Duke
and some guy named Julius McCabe.

Who the hell's that?

Beck's boss, apparently.

Only new information I've gathered,
and that came from the kid.

Okay. I'll run it.

Hey, did you get anything
other than a name?

Lucky I got that much.

No point in being an informant
if I'm not informed.

Well, you saved Beck's kid,
but you're still brand-new.

He's not putting you
in the inner circle just yet.

Then I got to put myself in.

How you gonna manage that?

By getting promoted to Beck's number two.

But I can't do that unless the job's open.

I got to figure some way
to get rid of Duke.

Well, normally I'd object,
but with these assholes,

you'd be doing the world a favor.

Angel Doll's laptop.

Can you get into his email?

Yeah, he left it open.

Good. We need an empty house.

Something vacant, off the grid.

Well, DEA's got a safe house in the woods,
just outside of Hartford.

Perfect.

Email the address to Beck
from Angel Doll's account.

Tell him it's the last known location
of the group that owns the pickup.

Oh, my God,
can you turn off this old-man shit?

It's giving me a headache.

Aspirin's on your left.

Come on, kid, you can't like this shit.

I mean, not particularly. No.

- We got to roll.
- Where to?

Not you, bench warmer.
Villy, let's get moving.

- Seriously?
- Hey, hey, hey, lady.

Hey, what you're doing to me is against
my constitutional rights, you know.

Once I get out of here,
I'm calling my congressman.

You open your mouth again,

the only congressman you'll get
to talk to is Teddy fuckin' Kennedy.

'Cause I will put you in the frozen earth
and leave you there.

She's not kidding.

Shut up.

Holy shit. Richie Rich.

Surprised to see you out
of your house, van Gogh.

Really, guys? Come on.

We're not in high school anymore.

Yeah, no shit.

'Cause see,
if we were still in high school,

my old man would still have a job,
and we'd still have a house.

But your rich daddy bought the quarry
over in Pondice

and shut it down so he could build more
warehouses for his fancy foreign rugs.

Didn't you hear what I told ya,
or is your little

tortellini ear not working?

I said, while you get to play
with your toys in your mansion,

my family gets to live
in a double-wide down by Carson Creek.

Now how's that fair, huh?

It's not.

Just like it's not fair that you're ugly.

Sometimes we got to play
the hand we're dealt.

And who the hell are you?

I'm Richard's friend.

So if you're smart,
you'll get out of here before I hurt you.

Get yourself a little babysitter now?

So you're stupid and ugly.

Hey.

Next time you see Richard, walk the other way.

Last truck's leaving now,

both from Slip Seven.

It's the same one mentioned
in all the files.

That's got to be Beck's shit.

Nothing else in there on this shipment?

Point of origin? Load weight?

Anything we can work with?

Just the number of crates.

It's twice the size of past orders,
but that's all I can find.

This record's even more bare-bones
than the prior ones.

Beck keeping details under wraps.

Well, maybe.

Or maybe Doll didn't finish filling it out
before Reacher killed him.

What?

He had no other option.

We got distance now. Let's hit it.

I was about to retire, you know.

There's a crack running down the middle.
Nothing some epoxy can't fix.

Okay. Good.

What flavor's this?

Today's special, lavender infusion.

This is why people
beat you up on the sidewalk.

Okay, those guys have messed with me
since grade school.

Made fun of me for having
no friends, no mom,

no one but a rich, piece of shit dad.

Who cares what a bunch of assholes think?

Yeah, but they're not wrong.
My dad is a piece of shit.

But, for some reason, I still...

love... I don't know, it's...

it's confusing.

Do you know what that's like?

No. My dad was a great guy.

It's stupid, I...

I have this fantasy that, one day,
I just grab a set of keys,

steal one of the cars
from my dad's garage,

and blow through the gates
and just disappear.

It's all it's cracked up to be.

I go wherever I want, do whatever I want,
answer to no one.

Once the dust settles,
I put a few bucks in my pocket,

I'm back on the road.

If that's the life you want,
I can help you get there.

But I can't do that unless you tell me

what the hell's really going on
with your father's business.

I've saved your ass twice now.

What's it gonna take for you to trust me?

If they find out I talked,
they'll come after me.

So I'll save you a third time.

Okay.

It's not my dad's business.

Mm, not anymore.

Julius McCabe runs everything now,

every aspect of our lives,
even where I went to college.

Wanted someplace close by
he can get to me easy.

Keeps my dad in line.

So that bodyguard's
not there to protect you.

He's my shadow.

McCabe always knows
where my dad and I are at,

for all intents and purposes.

McCabe's the one
who kidnapped you, cut off your ear?

Yeah.

Except the wet work was Paulie.

That was after he...

beat the hell out of me
and locked me in a trunk for days.

It was all under
McCabe's orders, though.

To get my dad to do whatever he wanted.

Like hand over his business.

More like his process.

My dad was selling rugs
long before McCabe entered the picture.

He'd always complain about the red tape
involved with shipping,

but my dad used to brag about how
he found a way around a lot of it.

Pay off dock managers, customs officials.

He had the entire
international system wired.

The way he put it,
he "greased the wheels of commerce."

He bragged a few too many times
to a few too many people.

Eventually, this Julius McCabe
catches wind.

McCabe needed those routes,
those shortcuts,

but didn't want to pay for 'em,
so he made a big move.

- Kidnapped and tortured you.
- To take over the system my dad built.

And now he uses it to ship drugs.

Drugs?

Maybe. I don't know.
I don't know what he moves.

Neither does my dad.

He just smuggles his stuff in the rugs and
gets it to where it needs to be, and...

...now we're
under his thumb forever.

You ever hear McCabe or your dad
use the name Xavier Quinn?

Not that I can remember.

Why? Who's Quinn?

Someone I met once.

Thought he could be working for your dad.

Why couldn't he have a normal job like...

like a plumber or an electrician?

Do we have to go home? I hate it there.

Can't we just, you know,
stay in town the rest of the day?

I was told to keep an eye on you,

not tell you where to go.

Thanks, Reacher.

You're right. This is awful.

Any flavor other than chocolate
or vanilla's nonsense.

What about strawberry?

Only in a pinch.

Ay, dios mío.

Where the fuck did they grow that monster?

In a lab.

Who's that?

Hmm...

Personal driver.

Everyone stops to watch him.

Smile for the camera, Julius McCabe.

A dozen? You checked 'em all?

Yeah,
but no idea what's in 'em.

Every crate was sealed shut.

We got some good shots of McCabe, though.

For real?

One sec.

Copy. See you later.

Ah, damn it!

- What? What? What?
- Th-This goddamn chair jabbed me again.

Deal with it. Jesus.

No, seriously, man.
Look, I-I think I'm bleeding.

- What did you do?
- What you mean, what did I do?

Man, I just tried to stretch my neck
in this fucking torture device

- you got me cuffed to.
- Yeah, I told you already, I'm not moving you.

Well, shit, man.
Could you at least patch me up?

For real. I don't want an infection.

God knows how many loads
have been blown in this shithole.

I appreciate it.

Ah.

Ah, man.

Y-You know, this ain't
my first time in custody, right?

Oh, you don't say.

Yup.

And cops usually don't give a shit.

They don't care if you're hurt and
bleeding out or freezing your balls off.

Just saying, appreciate it.

Ah, man.

Yeah, I feel for you.

Low man on the pole.

Stuck playing babysitter.

Shit, I get it.

I'm stuck watching the Beck kid every day.

My gosh.

Not the career choice
either of us imagined, I bet.

- But, shit, at the end of the day...
- I know what you're doing.

Trying to connect with me
on a personal level

because you want something,
so just spit it out.

Guilty as charged.

Oh, man.

Okay, look, look, I...
I just want a smoke, man.

Come on, it's just right over there.

Against regs. No dice.

- Come on, man.
- Look at that. Good as new.

No bridge troll.

Only something important
could keep him away

from protecting McCabe's
most important asset.

I'm fine with anything
that keeps him away from me.

Hey. How was town?

Um, fine.

Pop the trunk.

Taking a vacation?

An email came in from Angel.

The dealers who went after Richie
are holed up in a house in Hartford.

So, three of us are gonna go
take care of them, right now.

Get in.

I got to take a leak.

You got two minutes.

Hey. What the hell's that?

Wipe your damn feet
when you come into my kitchen.

That's fucking better.

Took you long enough.

Tonight's your chance to prove
you've earned your keep, Reacher.

What keep? You haven't paid me yet.

What'd I promise you, five grand?
Perform tonight, I'll make it ten.

Sounds good.

Is this road even paved?

It's a dump in the woods.
What'd you expect?

We're almost there.

These guys you're taking out,
they're pill-pushers.

They sell party drugs made in a lab.

You ever deal
with those types before, Reacher?

Not that I'm aware of.

You'd know if you had.
They're all the same.

Whatever's in fashion
affects everything they do.

From their business to their sneakers.

One minute, it's nothing but Nike.

Next week, you wouldn't be caught dead
in anything but Adidas.

Why is that?

I don't wear sneakers.

There's no fucking reason,
other than they get bored fast

and they got money to burn.

You know? Change for change's sake.

Even their weapons,
they were always MP5K guys.

Now, according to you,
they've moved on to Uzis.

There's no fucking loyalty,
to anyone or anything.

These fucking savages, come after my son.

Speaking of which, I got a call
from Earl Mattingly today.

Owns the ice cream shop in town?

Anything you want to say?

Yeah. His ice cream sucks.

About the fight you got into.

I heard you broke some bones.

They earned every one of 'em.

That's what Earl said.

Apparently they were messing with Richie.

Like I said, they deserved what they got.

You ask me,
Richie could've used the ass beating.

Somebody needs to toughen him up.

Kid's a pussy.

No one did ask you.

Turn the lights off.

It'll be up there,
quarter mile through the trees.

I want every last one of them dead.

Unload your clips in their fucking faces.

Send a message. No one fucks with my son.

No one fucks with McCabe's business.

Let's go, asshole.

Looks like no one's home. Great.

Could've known we were coming,
and they're lying in wait.

Well, if they're in there,
where's their fucking car?

Hidden.

They'll want to make it
look like no one's here.

If I tried to kidnap Beck's kid,

this is exactly the kind of place
I'd wait out the heat.

Well, I'll be some kind of asshole
before I walk into an ambush.

Well, I'm gonna do my job.

You want to tell your boss
you're too scared, be my guest.

But I'm gonna get my ten grand.

There's six of 'em in the living room,
drugged out of their minds.

Plenty of weapons, but none within reach.

I'll lead through the door,
you have my six.

Uh, nice try.
Once they get their bearings,

it's always the second guy who gets hit.

I go first, you tail.

Finger off the trigger.

Hand me the rifle
with your left hand by the barrel,

butt down, muzzle up.

- Turn to your left.
- What the hell do you think you're doing?

Getting the drop on some kind of asshole.

Now tell me where Teresa Daniel is.

You're a fed.

Knew I couldn't trust you.

Tell me where Teresa Daniel is,
I'll let you walk out of here alive.

Oh, Teresa's her real name?

Last chance.

You think you're gonna flip me?

McCabe's a stone-cold killer.
I cross him, I'm dead.

Cross you, you're a cop.

The worst you can do is arrest me,
so I'm not saying shit.

You played your last card, dumb-ass.

Fuck.

We got to go.

Right.

Where's Duke?

Dead.

There were eight of 'em,
waiting to ambush us.

Last man Hail Mary'd
a hand grenade, just like the one

that blew up Richard's bodyguard.

I was able to find cover. Duke didn't.

Did you get a good look at any of them?

It was too dark.

One of 'em did drop this.

I don't fucking believe this.
This is Angel's gun.

- Well, how do you know?
- It's a H&K P7.

German police weapon from the '70s.

It's rare in this country.

I gave it to him.

I'm confused.

Didn't Angel Doll send us there?

The son of a bitch.

He was in their pocket the entire time.

Then the kidnapping failed.
Then they switched tactics.

So they bought off Angel
and got him to point us right to 'em.

Here, take it. It's yours now.

Was it just him,
or do I have other rats in the nest?

You know, come to think of it,

two of 'em did seem sort of familiar.

Kind of reminded me of the guys
we switched trucks with the other day.

That's why they were MIA this morning.

I think we're fucked.

I think I got ten grand coming my way.

You got more than ten grand.

Something tells me
you're about to be my new number two.

♪ I'm the trouble starter,
punkin' instigator ♪

♪ I'm the fear addicted,
the danger illustrated ♪

♪ Hey, hey, hey ♪

♪ I'm a fire starter,
twisted fire starter ♪

♪ Hey, hey, hey ♪

♪ You're a fire starter,
twisted fire starter ♪

♪ Hey, hey, hey ♪

♪ I'm a fire starter,
twisted fire starter ♪

♪ I'm the bitch you hated,
filth infatuated ♪

♪ Yeah ♪

♪ I'm the pain you tasted,
fell intoxicated ♪

♪ Hey, hey, hey ♪

♪ I'm a fire starter,
twisted fire starter ♪

♪ Hey, hey, hey ♪

♪ You're a fire starter,
twisted fire starter ♪

♪ Hey, hey, hey ♪

♪ Hey, hey, hey ♪

♪ Hey, hey, hey ♪

♪ Hey, hey, hey ♪

♪ Hey, hey, hey ♪♪