| Feeble bones took me to a valuable weakness
|
| There’s no comfort in silence
|
| No real violence in words
|
| So I, sharpened my blade and bowed my head before I ceased and desisted
|
| And though my stomach was a ball of resistance
|
| I went straight for the course
|
| With burns on the backs of my palms
|
| Will I regret my cause? |
| or revel in my thoughts?
|
| I’m caught in the winds of remorse
|
| Cause everybody knows
|
| What good is a sword, next to a shotgun
|
| What good is a sword, next to a shotgun
|
| What good is a sword, next to a shotgun
|
| How did I get stuck in this valiant position
|
| When either I’ll survive for an instant
|
| Or cradle the earth?
|
| My God forsaken, weakened pulse, I knew I had to amend this
|
| Though I never was a force to be reckoned, or
|
| A sight to behold
|
| With burns on the backs of my palms
|
| Will I regret my cause? |
| or revel in my thoughts?
|
| I’m caught in the winds of remorse
|
| Cause everybody knows
|
| What good is a sword, next to a shotgun
|
| What good is a sword, next to a shotgun
|
| What good is a sword, next to a shotgun
|
| Am I biting the bullet alone?
|
| Oh I know that I’d rather be bold
|
| (What good is a sword, next to a shotgun)
|
| And we’re biting the bullet alone
|
| Oh I know that I’d rather be bold
|
| (What good is a sword, next to a shotgun)
|
| Am I biting the bullet alone?
|
| Oh I know that I’d rather be bold
|
| (What good is a sword, next to a shotgun) |