Pieces of me in a bottle
Slivers of glass melt through bullets
Magnetic fingers bring you up from a dot
Enduring prison cell survival as rats scurry through ashes for my scraps
My shimmering mind from the turn of a hand sets the countdown to activate my boiling point
Flashbacks of Hanover Street stinks of the eye
From there till now, sandwiched the war
Do you remember that time, the burning bridges and the burning houses?
Yes, as we slept and crept the streets away
As we looked for people in our prey
Took you fucking down to your last day
The war began, but so little compassion was built from the base
1956, Jesus Christ Allin
Jesus Christ Allin
And as the time went, you do what you do
The pathical, pathological eyes are victory's friend
As my irrational thinking leaves me in discretion
But it will only compensate my vengeful ferry
As every ninety-seven cents has shattered illusions
Visuals we keep are long and lonely
As my ambush hits hard on enemy lines
My ambush hits hard on enemy lines
My ambush hits hard on enemy lines
As society's backfire weakens its link
We must always ready ourselves to engage, and not defect when the duel is on
Think not it will happen and surely it will
But nothing assures immunity from the immortal pieces of me.