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Who is this man?
Cold, calculative, efficient.
Holds his own under fire,
Supports those who are hanging by a wire
Keeps his calm, holds cards in his palm
Cards with names written on them
Passes them out for others to live,
Denies them to those who will die
Holds his own in no man's land
Deals death with a gun in his hand
Creeps to his prey in any which way
By any means effective
He lays them down one by one
Letting their bodies bake under the sun
Cold as ice, twice as nice, but only with life
Not with you, nor with me,
If you do anything at all, just let him be.
When the odds are stacked against you,
Pray for his name, he just might come
Only to run to come back again
This man pays his dues with sin
Blood on his hands, standing alone
Betrayed once, betrayed twice
By humanity and their greed
Yet he is the man who will sew the seed
And one day reap the souls of his enemy.
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