Seen how many flicks 'bout hitmen there are?
And hitladies too, which no longer us jar,
Hitting for big dough, living high on the hog,
The envy of all who do nine-to-five slog.
Sometimes I think that I'd glad do their job:
Do it half-price, which might interest the mob.
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There are hitmen with conscience, others quite cold,
Some who want out 'cause they're getting too old,
"Ava" is 'bout one who insists to know
Why there's a contract for the guys she's to mow,
In "Collateral" Tom takes a taxi to work,
Sadly, in his driver a hitman does lurk.
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They oft' fall in love with the marks they're to whack,
And after some kisses decide to attack
The creep that ordered the hit in first place,
Since big bucks he has and a homely rude face,
Surrounded by killers who find they're no match
For the star of our show, cheek bloodied from scratch.
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Hit-guys can change between hero and villain,
Exude expertise in the business of killin',
With head-chef e'lan they select the right gun,
The right scope and right bullet to get the job done,
For death matters little when technique is enough
To merit our praise 'cause the guy knows his stuff.
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Most amazingly hitmen spread blood and gore
With no thought for police, who'd just be a bore,
Arriving at most like sand-and-shovel brigade,
To mop up the puddles the massacre made,
And off he-she limps with his-her honey a- glow,
As into box office does our hard-earned cash flow.
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