Behind the desk, sits the blonde man
With every button pushed,
100 metre radius of fire
1000 children crying
10000 limbs flying apart

There I am, 101 metres away
Standing with a gun in my hand
A photo in the other
They look happy, at least I hope

White is wrong, black is good
Heaven is bad, hell is good
Only with a gunshot on my chest
I ask
Why cant everyone be gray