On a train in rush hour...

We Used to Visit The Air Base

My Father would show us the steel birds taking flight

Their super sonic screams

The sky tattooed with white streams

A young boy can only dream

And now there is no feeling

For Deadly Designs 

Those Eagles and Hawks

Flying for a War Lord’s Sport

A young man can only abhor 

Where Are You From?

Not speaking location, birth place or heritage

But genetic sentences

Artificially tampered by private military scientists

Emulated and pooled, then trained then schooled

Black water is what they contained you in

Your mother was a number,

Father a legend

Calm when metal with deadly intent fell from the heavens

Embrace the truth

You were born to be a weapon

Economic hit men were paid for hire

But you were coded to act on desire

Mercy on Mary,

For the birth of this Mercenary

Love is a corrupter of Politics

It makes men honest

And fucks up the distribution of profits

Love makes war break even

Bankrupts power,

Makes the powerful powerless

And powerless even

Mankind’s original agreement 

Prologue: First To Shoot

Do you realise the consequences?

Did you consider the damage that will ensue?

You just started war in a city full of veterans. 

Bodies are showing up from all corners, with your scent on em.

The victims are hunters, made men and executioners..

And you think you can just show up and single-handedly take on my city?

There are rumours on the lips of bitches, and tongues of witches..

They say you were born with a defect.

It seems you are missing a very human mechanism,

A heart they say. A woman with no heart.

Well I can tell you this..

Some quantities of ammunition were produced in a soviet factory, 

Just as the wall in Berlin fell.

This particular batch found itself on the E55 headed into Germany where,

An Italian gentleman matched the items with a set of sub-machine firearms.

This was then sold on to a counterparty with interests in vice, 

And with partners in the US.

It was then shipped, and found way to the ports of the East Coast,

Where my associates do business.

And it just happens, that you enter my city, and decide to play games..

Games you seem to have mastered.

We specialise in multiplying assets, and muscling in on competition.

We are market leaders, and merchants of vice.

Real bastards with no sense for cognitive ritual between people..

And yet you find a way to paint a darker tone over our blackened hearts.

This so called word, Love,

Has no place, nor is welcome in our affairs.

So tell me, why did you bring it to our table?

That shipment of old Soviet arms was destined for you my love.

Every bullet has a portrait of your face on it,

Every trigger will embrace just to taste you.

This city used to belong to the five families..

And it is to my knowledge, that you currently dwell in the Black Hand club,

Down on Jerusalem Boulevard.

A car has been assigned..

Filled with heartbroken killers clutching at mechanisms of your peril.

Only the traffic of the night is between us..

But worry not, for we will be reunited soon..

When the doormen will fall in angelic shower of led,

And you are found seated whilst the music salutes you under neon light.

Let this night be my gift to you.

You were First To Shoot,

But I can assure you,

That the reign of Men will be the last to lose,

In this love tragedy that we find ourselves in.

Adieu, my Lady..

Adieu

They took my girl

So I shot at the world

Fireworks in Syria too..