Flashes of red in my eyes,
Burning away images of the night
I thought I would have, and I feel
Myself suffocating, lying amongst half
A throng of people, victims, as the rest
Run around in panic, of smoke and chaos.
Stood on a scaffold,
Maniac laughter ringing in my ears
A man awaiting his executioner
With a glint of pride in his voice
Death, a trophy for his accomplishments
Something is weighing me down
The thought of seeing the light
Leave from someone's eyes, no,
My hand on the trigger I hold losely,
Thinking to myself, should I pull it?