How dare someone accuse?
How dare the tainted pay their dues???
The innocent are worse then the guilty.
With their petty fights and stained hands, ever so filthy.
They sit upon their wooden throne,
with the mallet made to strike home.
A lost cause, a burden they won’t bare.
How is that fair?
A soldier strikes and kills on the battlefield,
innocent child, a gun he wields.
Returns home a warrior, a hero.
Then cast aside, nothing more then a zero.
So why, oh why?
When I make people die,
why do there loved ones cry?
Why am I punished?
Why must the verdict be published?
I am only doing what I was meant to.
Yet here I sit in this electric chair.
How is that fair??
One day I will have revenge on them all.
I will watch them crawl, then watch them fall.
They will cry and whine, they will beg at my feet,
But I will just press one button and;
HUMANITY DELETE
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 9:11 PM UTC
How dare someone accuse?
How dare the tainted pay their dues???
The innocent are worse then the guilty.
With their petty fights and stained hands, ever so filthy.
They sit upon their wooden throne,
with the mallet made to strike home.
A lost cause, a burden they won’t bare.
How is that fair?
A soldier strikes and kills on the battlefield,
innocent child, a gun he wields.
Returns home a warrior, a hero.
Then cast aside, nothing more then a zero.
So why, oh why?
When I make people die,
why do there loved ones cry?
Why am I punished?
Why must the verdict be published?
I am only doing what I was meant to.
Yet here I sit in this electric chair.
How is that fair??
One day I will have revenge on them all.
I will watch them crawl, then watch them fall.
They will cry and whine, they will beg at my feet,
But I will just press one button and;
HUMANITY DELETE
To all those twisted and angry.... Number 11 of Story Of Our Lives.
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