Mumbled Song Under Crosshairs

Yeah. Check the silhouette. Scope's on the back of my neck.

One breath, and then the next. The Reaper's got a perfect shot.

My best spot in the sight. A silhouette that's claiming every shadow in the night.

A force of broken melody that's chipped and overused. The barra barra rhythm that the

universe refused. But something in the hum remains, a frequency is sparked.

It's beating in the silence when the world is cold and dark. So stuttering on

syllables, I wrestle with the sound. And carry this damned echo where

the lonely roads are found. And all I got's a mumbled song,