Sex and Guns go hand in hand,
You shoot off one, the others damned,
Filled with missfires, filled to show,
That even perfections will never know,
What lies beneath, under sandy clay,
The rain will pour out, a darkened day
As my heads filled with empty thoughts,
I bury myself, strap on masks you bought
I close my eyes, but still I see his face,
I open them to scream, but am caught by grace
So i sit alone, in my whole to find,
That my worst enemy, is me, my mind
Where the ghosts of your past, still haunt me still,
I will find my strength, i will find my will
So in confusive words, i'll make poems and song,
Which contained baried, all that i am wrong
Then wash me clean, or tag me dead,
In either case, your guns still pressed against my