You ask yourself,
At the hardest times,
What is more dangerous,
The gun or the mind?
And when the day comes,
At the end of the year,When you are alone,
With your frozen tears,
And you can’t quite grasp,
Why this has come to be,
You think to yourself,
Why me?
And at the end of it all,
When you’re starting to fall,
And when you’re fed up and done…
What is more dangerous?
The mind…
Or the gun?