Peter stood upon the mountain
surrounded by the infidels.
As his gaze surveyed the landscape.
Crosshairs dancing in his eyes.

Peter's cry from the tower
did not sound so merciful.
And he goes...
He goes down.
He goes down.

Peter hears the voice again,
drowning out the icy cry.
In his head is the answer.
Loads his rifle with a sigh.

Peter's cry from the tower
shatters on the street below.
And he goes...
He goes down.
He goes down.
He goes down.
He goes down!

Peter feels the great release now.
He does not cry, letting go.

And he goes...
He goes down.
He goes down.
He goes...down.

"Y'all better get the police!"

And we all pretended,
thought he never intended
to take upon himself an action,
and carry it out.
Now we lie in what he knows.

And we never expected
he'd mind being rejected.
He took upon himself an action,
and carried it out...

Oh god.

Now we die for what he knows.

Die
Die
Die!