The penitant man and the sinful prey,
Know only too well that it ends today,
The sun comes up and the hunt begins,
Ain't much doubt about which one wins.
The penitant man got a piece of the sky,
Business class about eight miles high,
While the sinful prey got boots on the ground,
Listening out for that jet plane sound.
The penitant man got a fresh magazine,
Slipped in the grip of a Glock nineteen,
On most days hard to find reasons to die,
Today he got fifteen arguments why.
The heart that mocked him and the hands that bled,
Just about ninety nine miles ahead,
At a Greyhound Station queueing inside,
Eighty five bucks for a ticket to ride.
Way out in those flatlands, nowhere to hide,
Those are the breaks without God on your side,
The quality of mercy strains and bends,
On a lonely farm where a story ends.
Now the sinful prey ain't making no sound,
Lying in the dirt about six feet down,
The smell of fresh gun smoke hangs in the air,
The penitant man got blood in his hair.
Edited by bassMonkey on February 11 2023 23:28
Know only too well that it ends today,
The sun comes up and the hunt begins,
Ain't much doubt about which one wins.
The penitant man got a piece of the sky,
Business class about eight miles high,
While the sinful prey got boots on the ground,
Listening out for that jet plane sound.
The penitant man got a fresh magazine,
Slipped in the grip of a Glock nineteen,
On most days hard to find reasons to die,
Today he got fifteen arguments why.
The heart that mocked him and the hands that bled,
Just about ninety nine miles ahead,
At a Greyhound Station queueing inside,
Eighty five bucks for a ticket to ride.
Way out in those flatlands, nowhere to hide,
Those are the breaks without God on your side,
The quality of mercy strains and bends,
On a lonely farm where a story ends.
Now the sinful prey ain't making no sound,
Lying in the dirt about six feet down,
The smell of fresh gun smoke hangs in the air,
The penitant man got blood in his hair.
Edited by bassMonkey on February 11 2023 23:28