THE HITMAN

 

I am,

The Hitman.

Hired to settle,

Someone else's score.
 

I am,

The Hitman.

That's what I'm,

Paid for.
 

I am,

The Hitman.

Bad to the core.
 

When I come bustin',

Through your door.

Shootin' up the place,

With my forty-four.

It doesn't matter,

Anymore.

You're but another,

Body spillin' blood,

On the floor.
 

I am,

The Hitman.

Comin' after you.
 

I am,

The Hitman.

It's what I'm paid to do.
 

I am,

The Hitman.

I won't stop,

'Till I am through.
 

I am,

The Hitman.

You may not even,

Have a clue.
 

I am,

The Hitman.

I meet you,

At your favorite bar.

Spring for a brew,

Or two.

Then we go out,

To your car.

Drive around,

Lookin' for a screw,

Or two.

An' then,

All of a sudden,

There's a gun at your side.

Now you know,

It's true.

An' you're terrified.

'Cause there's nothin',

Nothin' you can do.

Can't trick the Reaper,

When it's time you died.
 

I am,

Your Hitman.

Copyright © 1993 by Alexander McDonald

All rights reserved.