Just one more way to die He lurks among God's greenery, his weapon braced against a tree, with scope and weapon zeroed in, he awaits his chance to kill again. Human kind he views as game- this monster with no soul or name, who disappears from each vile crime, until once more it's killing time. Such crimes as his, only cowards do, contempt and shame are what he's due, and should be heaped upon his head, by both the living and the dead. Life goes on and we're standing tall, one punk ass freak can't kill us all, and death...