Over the hill I can see the rising smoke
Comanches, Texas Rangers, at each other's fucking throats
Before I think, my guns are pulled I'm charging straight ahead
The danger's of no consequence if rangers end up dead
The lead I deal to them turns the air to crimson mist
As I run out of ammo I resort to knifes and fists
My blade is stuck inside a skull whose eyes look terrified
I turn around to see my comrades fighting by my side
Blood, gore, scalps, and hair
Glistening carnage everywhere
Dead rangers wreak of shit
Throw them down into the pit
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