Standing here, I realize you were just like me trying to make history. But who's to judge the right from wrong. When our guard is down I think we'll both agree, that violence breeds violence. But in the end, it has to be this way. I've carved my own path, you've followed your wrath, but maybe we're both the same. The world has turned, and so many have burned, but nobody is to blame. Yet staring across this barren wasted land, I feel new life could be born beneath the blood stained sand.