I will try to put all your thoughts together
Put them on my spindle, wove them in the loom
You cringe to no avail
Please evacuate the premises.

The shotgun is sitting in the corner
Waiting for the voice to lift up its bones
You have no life without the powder
Your barrel, stained only by me.

Wake me up when you sing again
Your life-blood is dry.
I will lie with you in waiting.
I won't ever leave your side.