Yea Though I Walk (The "Mad Dog Irish Assassin"-1933):
Almost time.
Jittery. Shaky as shit. Hanging on by a thread.
Where is he?
Don Corleone. The target.
Thinks he can tell everyone how to live, who to be, what their place in this world is. Even if that's dead.
Had an uncle who was at the Argonne. One who told him- "focus on physical motion."
Where is the target?
Cold, freezing, driving rain.
Had another uncle who never got to serve but saw combat in a barroom. Once told him "If I'd lain down to die, I'd be dead".
Where is the gun? There it is. Given to him by his lady, his dear lady.
Told her not to be here. No need to her to be part of this.
There he is.
The only practical advice his ex-policeman father ever gave him- "God forbid you ever have to act in self-defense, three in the chest or you're just like him. That's the proper target.".
Wait for him to lunge. Give yourself a case in court.
He lunges.
A flash.
Then- a hail of fire.
And finally-silence.
"Whether on the scaffold high of the battlefield we die what matter when for Ireland dear we fall".
