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Army of Tom F. Wilsons Lyrics

Light heat and his backs against the wall,
Taps on his wrist-com and makes another call.
No answer. Could he be the only one left?
An invader of the city, last line of defense.
No time to think about the final consequence,
Because the marshall's getting louder and the streets smell of death.
The buzzards drop bombs so he's got to get down,
Strafing in the dark on the wrong side of town.

The only chance he's got is just to break loose.
Gotta get to the hangar, get armed to the teeth,
But the Tom F army is hot on the tail.
They've got their sensors activated and they never ever fail.

But they're marching in slow, cause the search is on.
Maybe, just maybe he'll get up and get gone.
Turn the night vision on, and hope for the best,
The new life of the hunter made a 1 double F.

Stand-by for status update: Alright, listen up, this is unit 2, on your right flank.
I'm picking up some hot activity in that direction. Will Spore continue deployment.
Demolition team alpha 40, are those charges planted yet? On forward got these skunks pinned down.
Let's finish the job.

Duck down in the alley and he's wounded,
With just enough force to get the F forces cloaked and
(?) quadrants.

He thinks it's no good cause the cities on fire,
And the active camoflage is a standard retire.

(?) ETA 44 minutes, tag.

The body picks up, cities being overrun.
3 miles to go. On the move without a gun.

Maytag is picking up some suspicious heat signatures in sector CA

Just lucked out that they haven't found the operation,
The mech launching people at the north fire station.
Viking slaughter, the best of the best,
Got 'em finally marching on, We're gonna put 'em to the test.
Stand-by for status update: (Massive ?)

Power on, display lights up:
No incoming calls, no girls, no buds,
But the armor suit is tough enough to finally strike back,
With a one man (?) counter-attack.

Heat signature detected as the troops march on.
His comps reading's f***ed and the (?) are all gone.
City Slacks last chance and it lies with one man,
With 1000 pounds of armor and a trigger in his hand.

West bound on a mission to destroy the maniac,
In a skeletal exterminator, time to push back
All the while his minds made: It's payback time.
Everything he does is prolly lightin' him up for the crime.

The world burns around him and it's time for the fight.
He unloads his firepower as it's lighting up the night,
And he's fighting for his life, might be his last fight.
While all these metal-faced b******s get to melt out a night.
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