If you want blood on my hands, then I'll make it my own. You can't pick and choose which edge of the sword you condone. Take them out, one by one, and make sure you're the last. Throw their lifeless bodies out with the trash. Cut out the cancer and sever the rotting limbs. Left with just a torso to repent for your eternal sins. Condemn me. Erase me. I don't want any part of this. If violence is defendable and everyone's expendable, then make me the first one to go.