Protest The Hero

Gin, always the gin, always take one on the chin
The devil dogs and scorpions peel away and wear my skin
Smokeless flame, the common name
Less than the angels but more of the same
No paradise, the grateful will lay their claim
Whether the intentions are violent or just mundane
With the wind he disappeared
Confirming everything that I feared
The time passed is shown by the length of his beard
Solomon stands dead on his feet, waiting for termites to resolve his conceit
In the mountains, in the seas, in the air waits the disease