Flesh Wounds Target Practice And How I Became A Statistic Lyrics & Chords By Backstabbers Incorporated

...And we're feeding the trigger happy with fucking bullets galore... and then we wait. And when the shots get fired, we decide to point the finger. Lay the blame. Close the door. Call it a day. It's not about whats been said, it's about what's been done. These stories will never hold true... some fucking hero...
(I don't care whether your god exists or not... if he/she does?...fuck him/her... they sure as fuck weren't there for me...)