Here I stand, a candle still flickering,
No wind has blown, not just yet.
Bullets fly through the air,
Shedding more and more blood as they glide,
But nothing can stop them, not even me.
Here he comes, stumbling and stuttering,
Eyes whirring, no colour in his face,
Blood coughed, his devil rising,
Sins being cared for, dying.
No one knows it, only me,
But you only come here to die…