As the sky turns grey,
On the ground they lay.
The bodies of all the fallen,
With blood not near, but on them.
As you hold your gun,
The only one standing.
You take one deep breath,
As your shot and face death.
As the sky turns grey,
On the ground they lay.
The bodies of all the fallen,
With blood not near, but on them.
As you hold your gun,
The only one standing.
You take one deep breath,
As your shot and face death.