Programmed in my head are intentions set to kill.
A machine set to destroy at their own will.
Electronic signals instruct my next move.
Like a messenger of Death, my hands are cold.
Locked away, my thoughts are elsewhere.
A machine set to destroy at their own will.
Electronic signals instruct my next move.
Like a messenger of Death, my hands are cold.
Locked away, my thoughts are elsewhere.
While deadly information feeds my mind.
Secret Orders for a perfect murder.
Sent by the wrath of the invisible hand.
Standing high on a building top, I get ready to kill some more.
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