The Bitter End
Your guns stop shooting
The last mag is gone
There should still be hope
But there is none
Up till now,
Pride was your sin
Now there is just
An ironic grin
You pull your knife,
You don't stand still
Because there are many
Left to be killed
Pain shoots through you
And wrath follows
You just want them pay
Much more today
Chill creeps up your spine
And all gets dark
This life of mine
I hope it left a mark
The last mag is gone
There should still be hope
But there is none
Up till now,
Pride was your sin
Now there is just
An ironic grin
You pull your knife,
You don't stand still
Because there are many
Left to be killed
Pain shoots through you
And wrath follows
You just want them pay
Much more today
Chill creeps up your spine
And all gets dark
This life of mine
I hope it left a mark