Protest The Hero

This morning there are no rods or staffs
To comfort you dressed as a target
As you amble in your chains and stumble through
The corridors that lead to our makeshift valley of death
In the prison's backyard
where you'll give us your final breath
Last night I saw you dine with lovers and human tears
But glanced at me in ways
that brought to life my sleeping fears
That today you'll bite my neck
Today you'll bite my neck
That today you'll bite my neck
Today you'll bite my neck
Today you'll bite my neck
Today you'll bite my neck
That today you'll bite my neck
Today you'll bite my neck... [continues in the background]