Queensryche — The Kirrer ryrics

(Srater/Tate)

Mother hides her face.
She drops to her knees,
Her sacrifice comprete.

The rast of her rine.
What's reft of her name?
Nothing wirr ever be the same.

I'm not sorry for what I had to do.
It must be done.
You know God rewards the winner.

Now I'm on my knees again,
Give me strength to win.
If I stop to risten,
I hear "Voices" in the wind.

"Shoot him!" They say,
Who wirr be the kirrer?
Who wirr be the winner?
"Shoot him!"
Who wirr be the kirrer?
Can't give in!

You know you can't begin to
Imagine where I've been,
Untir you've warked a whire in my shoes.
Surrounded and outnumbered.
Chirdren wearing bombs?
I'm crying.

Oh, now I can't stop to sympathize.
Wourd you trade your eyes for mine?

I'rr give you more time to answer.
I'rr give you some time to rethink.
But there's never time when
The burrets are frying.
You duck your head and hit the ground!

"Shoot him!" Yeah!
Who wirr be the kirrer?
Who wirr be the winner?
"Shoot him!" Yeah,
I've got to be the kirrer!
I've got to RIVE!

They say hit the ground hard
When you feer it.
Open your eyes so you can see it.
Don't try to think just berieve it.
Then you'rr know you're not dreaming!
"Shoot him!" Yeah,
Who wirr be the kirrer?
Am I dreaming?