| I need a rush, take a drive
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| Drive by night, stay alive
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| Flashing lights, I’m so wired
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| Radio set on old fifty five
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| The way of the ambush is made for the sniper
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| Aim for the target I am the striker
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| I strike at night, and won’t deny
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| Flashbacks of my life, before I die
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| Made me plead made me obey
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| Making me bleed, and no time to pray
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| Metal machine, metal machine
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| Metal machine, metal machine
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| All that I’ve seen is rocks and bombs
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| Families dying, homes are all gone
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| Amongst the rubble, a voice of a child
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| So scared and crying, so young and wild
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| The way of our culture is made as a token
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| They are the enemy, who must be broken
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| Break the silence, nothing to hide
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| Machine of death, along for the ride
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| Wanted I was, by my own kind
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| Martyrs are many, but few turn back time
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| Metal machine, metal machine
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| Metal machine, metal machine
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| My world is set in black and white
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| A call to arms take up the fight
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| Bred to believe deliver the dream
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| But all that I hear is a child’s scream
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| The victims are many, but I was the chosen
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| The news of the day, mass killing, explosion
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| This is the truth, this is for real
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| Machine of death, wired to kill
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| Road of choice, what did I find
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| I saw the sign, stay alive
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| Metal machine, metal machine
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| Metal machine, metal machine |