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The Dear Hunter - The Tank

Eight wheels busting for the lives of infantry
(His bearings shift)
His turrets turning from accountability
(He takes his aim)
"We sing our final song and soon this verse is over."
He makes advances till his wheels cease to roll.
His God is smiling on his cold mechanic soul.
"His plot is perfect if it sees no contradiction."

There is no sign that he shows a sign of slowing.

You've stained your skin and I won't stick around
long enough to count the hearts that hit the ground.
So long ago...was I one of them?

You've stained your skin and I won't stick around
long enough to count the hearts that hit the ground.
So long ago...was I one of them?

And still he moves on
arm and iron conquer heart and soul.

and what of those in silent disconnect
sundry souls akin in consequence
begging for bills beyond the pain