What's a symbol,
just another,
baked jacked
and rock and roll?
I know the children,
can unwire the coil,
but fire that is friendly,
Gets caught in the cross-free.
Can you imagine a girl,
On such a killing spree?
Even if reluctant,
Cameras will see her act,
There's nothing but suspicion.
Still she doesn't even care,
This future is a fountain fair,
That needs no description...
Blood fills her eerily hair.
"Security guards came in too late,
and on fire are their replace-ments,.
Mercenaries on duty, sir,
are actually a fine replacement.
Children can be killing machines,
Ask any old time bang mercenary,
or soldiers kept in the conflict."
Bang, Bang,
Memories
can't cease
where I'm
going with this.
They had to take her where
bones only need to bleed.
Gathering are the other weeds,
good luck growing all the seeds.
Its easy to see their threat,
hiding from the news
but its all under their breath
No need for cues.
Bang Bang,
Cremation
is much cheaper
than an old man burial.
I wouldn't care,
for no service,
myself, particularly.
It's not easy,
being a mercenary,
who drinks
but can handle a gun.....
I had Craig Merritt
and even Chopper Reid,
for the less of one......
Shooting one is no fun,
but I feel no sympathy
There's no-one in my run,
to earn my smoking
and loud fantasy.
