Disillusioned words like bullets bark as human gods aim for their mark.
Well the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount, But nothing really matters much it's doom alone that counts.
You don't count the dead, when god's on your side.
How many years can some people exist before they're allowed to be free.
Who am I helping, what am I breaking, what am I giving, what am I taking?
Watch waterfalls of pity roar, you feel to moan but unlike before, you discover that you'd just be one more person crying.