I stand alone, looking at the demise of this sickness
the dust settles, I hear a few cries in the distance
of little children, locked within this panic and fear
the damage severe, what if I had my family here?
would I still hold this gun? would I still fight?
would I laugh tonight if my child met the afterlife?
these questions I can't answer, the bubble just bust
I see thousands of memories trapped under rubble and dust
just a city of smoke, I pity the folk that are left in this zone
all those swept from their homes without flesh on their bones
and I'm no hero, how can I believe I'm a better man
when I'm surrounded by terror and a legion of skeletons?
theres no need for itelligence, it's plain to see
that this child in my arms was slain by me
and the rotting flesh fills the air with a terrible smell
now a city of ghosts stand at the gates of heaven and hell
and I'm panicking, cos the pool of blood I'm standing in
is luke warm, my boots torn, feet covered in bandages
my body aches, my hands wobbly, shake from the torment
whilst the world hails the victory as the greatest performance
they've ever seen, but this dreaded dream is never-ending
the thoughts of death, sores on flesh and severed tendons
is killing me! yet I march with a task to slaughter
carrying only a rifle, my pride and a flask of water
I hate this shit! a dictatorship, no soul is equal
we've fueled the fire of a fools desire to control his people
my tears are invisible, I could break a bone
and I'd still be expressionless wearing this face of stone
so unmask this demon, and put a hole in my chest
break all my bones and rip my flesh, and finaly put this sorrow to rest....
my first om in ages
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