Salvation at the barrel of a gun

There is a war coming
I know it, do they know it?
Do they know I know?
For I am an instrument of the revolution

I have chosen a moving target
Burning - Taught - Sweat - Delirium
It has no face, it cannot
Steel - Pressure - Bones - Crack

It will serve it's purpose
Nausea - Calm - Anger - Rising
It will be the first of many
And this I am sure of...

The winter has been long this year
I've been bitten before
I am sleeping with cold steel
Listening for a foot on the stair

All I have is this - my salvation
A bullet with your name carved on it

My finger on the trigger
Deep - Fear - Inner - Silence
One shot, one kill - one way
Nerves - Wracked - Blood - Boils
It falls back and to the ground
Dead calm and inner peace
The first of many

When the day comes
I will not hesitate
I cannot hesitate