The factory   You're ready to strike   The factory is gonna catch fire   Got the gasoline and the match to light   Got the stains on your clothes from last night's fight   Back door is shut   You pick the lock   Pages in a pile as they take the shot   Smoking guns   Pistols cocked   Always ready to kill   Ready to stop   Anyone who disagrees with a crooked plot   The crooked cops   Sirens off   They bust the door   Your pour the gasoline on   Pages in your hand   They shoot your arm   Second bullet hits   But you still respond   You strike the match   Your pulse is gone      If nobody sees you   No one will know   Save for the priest in the confessional   The mind moves fast but the body moves slow   No time to waste cause the cops might show   Ripping out the pages of the Bible you stole   Hide them in a bag with the chemical   Courage, man   You're a proffesional   No one was seen   No potential threats   You run to the store   Got some matches to get   50p is down   Your hands are wet   You're nervous now, man   You're starting to sweat   Face is so white   You can't forget   They kill anyone who tries to start it   Almost there   You see the darkened silhouette of...      The factory   You're ready to strike   The factory is gonna catch fire   Got the gasoline and the match to light   Got the stains on your clothes from last night's fight   Back door is shut   You pick the lock   Pages in a pile as they take the shot   Get the pages out   Get the pages out   Light the pages now