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Parks

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The life of a comrade lost
At the hands of nefarious souls

Give him more energy
So he can return

Exact the deed on them
Only ten times as bad

More weapons to the fallen
Silver rifles and silver daggers

The life was not wasted
he was meant for this day

The day he turned on them
the men he once called "friends"

He'll leave them down
Not a angel in the sky exists

Never believed before
but now he prays for life

He has grown from himself
no longer the little weapon

He exceeded his murderous past
and now he takes death to the mass

Died he did in that mustard gas




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