Open the locks on the iron door, a priest in black walks inside, he is here for my final rites, am I going to die?
Shackled feet and my hand are tied, walking out to the yard, the sun so bright that my eyes can't see, Firing Squad is waiting for me
As I walk to the pole my hands start to shake, my face starts to sweat but I don't wanna break, the clouds in the sky look so hostile and dark, judges of dust looking down on their mark
I realize I'm done for, my days have been numbered, this can't be real, in death there's no honor, too numb to fight for my right to survive, they put me in place, there is no time to waste
Death is now near 'cause they're blinding my eyes, the last thing I see is the squad down the range, if this must happen then let it be done, I'm tired of fighting, resistance is gone
The order is given to aim down the sight, I'm glad this is over, there's peace in my mind, “Ready, aim, fire” the last words I hear, here come the bullets to free me from fear