They tell me my body belonged to some soldier who fought bravely in the Battle of the Bulge. And I have to ask, what ever happened to this soldier? Where did he go? Where did I come from? Because I sure ain't him. When my maker brushed the dirt from my eyes, he called me 'John Ash' and that is the only name I know.

Oh, you got to talking with Ra's, huh? Does it make it easier for you to think my little dip in his fountain of youth turned me rabid? Or is this just the real me?

She's a creation made by evil hands

She slept in her grave for a thousand years

But in this night of violent tears

He brought her back to life again

He created an angel just for himself

He gave her beauty, he gave her life

But she couldn't live without a soul

So she faded away again

When you died, I buried you in that creepy ancient cemetary.

And you came back different.

Which is good, because you were kind of a dick, orginally.