Eight wheels lusting for the lives of infantry (His bearings shift)

His turrets turning from accountability (He takes his aim)

We sing our final song and soon this verse is over

He makes advances 'til his wheels cease to roll (His god is smiling)

His god is smiling on his cold mechanic soul

There's no sign that he shows a sign of slowing

Your urgency hastened by his ingenuity (It's just a matter)

It's just a matter of moments 'til your body is debris (So say a prayer)

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

You've stained your skin and I won't stick around, around