The factory
You're ready to strike
The factory is gonna catch fire
Got the gasoline and the match to light
Got the stains on your clothes from last night's fight
Back door is shut
You pick the lock
Pages in a pile as they take the shot
Smoking guns
Pistols cocked
Always ready to kill
Ready to stop
Anyone who disagrees with a crooked plot
The crooked cops
Sirens off
They bust the door
Your pour the gasoline on
Pages in your hand
They shoot your arm
Second bullet hits
But you still respond
You strike the match
Your pulse is gone
If nobody sees you
No one will know
Save for the priest in the confessional
The mind moves fast but the body moves slow
No time to waste cause the cops might show
Ripping out the pages of the Bible you stole
Hide them in a bag with the chemical
Courage, man
You're a proffesional
No one was seen
No potential threats
You run to the store
Got some matches to get
50p is down
Your hands are wet
You're nervous now, man
You're starting to sweat
Face is so white
You can't forget
They kill anyone who tries to start it
Almost there
You see the darkened silhouette of...
The factory
You're ready to strike
The factory is gonna catch fire
Got the gasoline and the match to light
Got the stains on your clothes from last night's fight
Back door is shut
You pick the lock
Pages in a pile as they take the shot
Get the pages out
Get the pages out
Light the pages now