That knife in his back was tipped in a virus
Felt it spiral up into his iris, ripping his life with
A cold chill, as he slumps into the hollow of a fox hole
As million screams trill onward, following the drum roll
In between no-mans-land and the safety of a trench
The bullets rip and hit, blades swirling and drenched
He lies there as boots and bayonets march past fast
Soiled in his own blood, at the hands of the last man,
Who would ever seem to do him in...in a derange manner
It was his partner, his 6 man, ....his brothers keeper
__________________
What is public must be legit, fit for average consumption, don't forget. What is private is handled by pirates, prying loose profits from prosthetics. To tell the difference between: first remain unseen with a steady breath and hope, then listen to the cracks in the wall with a stethoscope.
|