Devil's Halo

A loaded gun, a leather jacket
Screaming girls, a major racket
Tattoo's of evil on his very legs
A gun to the head as one begs

A box of cigs, a stolen car
A group of gangsters in a strip bar
Stolen cash, a bottle of Jack
"Good times, I've got your back"

Gunshots fired from a passing car
All was known death not far
More explosions through the air
As the Main one fires, not a flinch, not a care

All was lost, all friends were gone
Left by himself, entirely alone
His saddened eyes begin to tear
Is this the same one everyone had fear?

Raises his hand, out goes the gun
His had enough, his all done
It occurs it was all a sick crime
No money can turn back this time