You've got a gun, you can use it now
And here's a man, you can make him dead
The choice is yours, so ask yourself
If you wanna be a killer, if you wanna be a murderer
With a weapon in a pocket, be brave it's so easy
Without it you're so helpless
Look in the mirror, how do you feel now?
What do you feel about yorself?
Every thursday my angel comes
he knocks on the door of fate
though everything inside him screams
he prostitutes himself for me
And his humiliation wraps itself around me
With protective incantations
so i don't have to pray
The world is laid open for me
I'm the lightness i'm the dream
I'm the little toe of your foot
The great of the world serve me
My forehead is free of worry and my body's pure
In my white dress string of amber
My shoes are made of moss
Nothing disturbes me in my merrment
The only story is of I
Yesterday angel said no
A dark star is over my head
My old face is wrinkled and cracked
Scary is my shaking hand
Fruit of fear cracks inside of me
I start to prey again
Feet are bleeding
I'm the dirt from under your nail
And I prey to be invisible
My angel left me yesterday
I miss those good ol' times
Just you and me so cool
Sippin' on a cup of joe
Was it one lump dear or two?
An early winter
I miss those good ol' times
When your words were good as bread
And laughs danced around our heads
All snug in a blanket warm
An early winter