All my rivals will see what I have in store

My gun

I've been harboring fleets in this reservoir

Red sun

And this nation's about to explode

Your disciples are riddled with metaphors

Well hung

Better pony up and bring both your barrels full

Not one

As we release this unspeakable toll

Every grain of sand equals

All the stars and everyone

How's our mother to damn these contributors

With mud?

How will the man who made chemicals difficult

Shed blood?

How's our father supposed to be told?