| Whatever happens now is beyond my control.
|
| Emotion has abandoned me.
|
| Faded away and left me… cold.
|
| The call’s been made.
|
| I’m here, dependent on the atmosphere contained inside this mask I wear.
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| My breathing is all I hear.
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| I’ve got the target switch in hand.
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| I just feel numb, scanning the ground at the hell that I’ll make.
|
| I’m above it in the air.
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| Flying high above the city walls as the insurgents run.
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| Can’t stand their ground against the hell that 'll make.
|
| I’m above it in the air.
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| I see it all so clear… at 30,000 feet above the enemy.
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| No one can see me.
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| Press execute.
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| I’ll send the «Pigs"away.
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| The tortured painful cries will never fall upon my ears
|
| and never stain my elder years.
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| My heartbeat is all I’ll feel.
|
| Infrared tracks the land as the weapons lock.
|
| There’s no defense against the Hell that I’ll make.
|
| I’m above it in the air. |
| I’m above it.
|
| Moving past the speed of sound,
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| I won’t see them when they hit the ground.
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| No hiding from the Hell that I make.
|
| I’m above it in the air.
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| I’m a shadow.
|
| Over the rooftops of the city the word travels fast from cell phone to cell
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| phone.
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| «They demand to see their faces!»
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| «Of the women… hidden behind the veil?»
|
| Flaming oil blackens the sky.
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| I don’t know why… their hate is the reason for the Hell that I make.
|
| I’m above it in the air. |
| I’m above it.
|
| Gazing down at the burning land,
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| I’m the creator of this new «Promised Land,"and I wonder.
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| What the hell did I make?
|
| I’m above it in the air. |
| I’m above it.
|
| What in the hell did I make? |