| Blind-folded and gagged, stood waiting
|
| With the whole world my firing squad
|
| At the edge of the world I’m faced out
|
| Staring the sun right in the eye
|
| Vultures circle above,
|
| Hyenas mocking the kill,
|
| Excrement drooling down their chins
|
| Atop the cliffs I look down,
|
| Into the starving hell-mouth
|
| The rabid foam crashes hard on its teeth
|
| Their mouth’s salivate
|
| Fantasizing my gruesome ending,
|
| This world looks down upon
|
| A man who can stand on his own two feet
|
| As they’re feeding their guns: «ready, aim»
|
| They say I’ll live, if I die for their cause
|
| Living under the rule
|
| Of fellow Cro-Magnon fool
|
| They fear who leads and will kill to stay still
|
| Their mouth’s salivate
|
| Fantasizing my gruesome ending,
|
| This world looks down upon
|
| A man who can stand on his own two feet
|
| Without eating from their claws
|
| Life feels like Hell should
|
| This Hell’s so cold
|
| Pull another knife out,
|
| Stick it with rest of them
|
| When my back is full,
|
| Turn me around to face it Such melancholy, burning the stars from skies
|
| As we melt, drowning inside
|
| Their bloodied eyes
|
| Hope is ravaged, running from lacerations
|
| Sob so heavily, we choke, then we die
|
| Die
|
| Life feels like Hell should
|
| This Hell’s so cold
|
| Pull another knife out,
|
| Stick it with rest of them
|
| When my back is full
|
| Turn me around to face it Sob so heavily, we choke,
|
| Then we die |