And another one bites the dust
Another game. Another dead. The cannon and the image in the sky amongst the stars. The fallen. The Tribute.
But why can I not conquer love?
No one volunteers. To be the dead. The forgotten. They watch. They pity and they fear. They taste disgust and they know anger. But no one takes their place.
And I might've got to be the one
Please don't pick me. A mantra. Their promise. Their fear. Please don't pick me.
Why not fight this war without weapons?
Their hands. Their nails. Fingers and toes. Their elbows and their knees. Their skin. Their weapon. Tear. Maim. Break. Kill.
And I want it and I wanted it bad
To be the one. To be the victor. The winner. But first you are the victim. The tribute.
But there were so many red flags
Don't raise your eyes. Do not question. Stand in your place and bow your head. Do not speak out. Do not volunteer. Not you. The hand will pass you by.
Now another one bites the dust
Another year. Another dead. Twenty Three gone but whispered as one. The dead.
And let's be clear, I trust no one
No one to trust. No one to forgive. They are your enemy. They all want you dead. They don't want to be the one. The dead. They want to be the few. The victor.
You did not break me
We are here. We are the thoughts and the voices. The look in the eyes when we bow our heads and fake our smiles.
We still fight for peace
We will cheer your rules. But we do not approve. Your price. Your murder.
Your Game.