Marched At Gunpoint

Marched at gunpoint through the ranks
Each motherfucker to his death
For every kill is sacrosanct
And every tomb's an honour

Clinging in dependence
To the fewer and fewer remnants
Of a life of no expectance
Eyes that freedom flashed before

Darkened skies of tyranny
Cloud any dreams of liberty
Wounds so deep they will not heal
A gouging tear to control

Trickle down another drop
To butcher one's way to the top
Leave the rest to burn and rot
Cast them all aside like each bullet-riddled corpse pissing with blood

Pummelling heads and a'tearing out spines - no respite
Devaluing flesh to the price of a gun - hit and run
Target the face, watch a trembling daze - see them cry
Another put down, one more clone in the ground - smell them rot

A live product goes under
To a manufactured grave
As each motherfucker to his death
Gets down on his knees