I find myself in years before
dreaming of carnage and death of me
a certain voice inside did say
your conscience is pleading for your peace.

Supplication, faith and God
Communion brings me guilty thoughts.
And though I've come a long way from my place.
Deep down inside me this hatred rots.

20, 50 hundreds more.
Fall besides my left and right.
Each one dead in its own rite.
Expendable is each one's life.

Where I go from here I ask
myself this question o'er again, I try
to overcome this self-righteous act
looming somewhere deep inside.

Maybe take one to the brain I hope
7 loops around the rope I tie
Worthless dying to another man
Better now is this suicide.