A Rough, young rebel with his back turned to God,
Slung over his shoulder is a bullet-slinging rod.
The Rebel looks back upon a life of hate,
A life of envy, a life left too late.
His eyes burning fierily, he endures his final blow,
The Rebel is sent to live a life down below.
Rivers of lava and a toxic sky,
The young Rebel know that one day he will fly.
He will fly away from death and return to his home,
But accompanied will fall and and will rise alone.
He turns to the sky and finally faces God,
And lying empty on the ground is his Bullet-slinging Rod.