Take a saw And cut me down deeply Slowly, Starting from my head Through my heart, Down to my sick belly So, I could feel the agony You poured on me Vengeance might be a way But I will settle down for a say Like a boiling water on ice Dripping the pain into my veins You shall succeed being a monster A stranger after all we did Together, snitching out on me
Being suspended from work with my friend snitching on me (lies actually). There is nothing but pain for what he had done after all we have been through.
Leverage for an escape The fearest of them all Last time he wore a cape The dearest of them all
Perished, in dirt and blood Vanished, from hearts and hoods
You witnessed nothing but the lies Impossible to believe, Still awakening the witnesses They don't seem to believe.
Having said that the impossible matters are hard to believe, here, I remind you that's what it makes a man a hero. Several years after when the hero is no more, people tend to forget their effort. Just the slight memory of his existence makes most of them wonder what he was as a person and judge him from that perspective.
Heroes are always heroes. No matter the time or place.