You've stained your skin, and I won't stick around, 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 bliss beyond the pain?
Relief is just a turret's turn away

The Dear Hunter - The Tank

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