Lovers are so lost, stupid within their silliness.
All these children,
Boys, girls, the lost and desperate, they come searching for my heart.
But the once thing they don't realize?
I was born with a revolver.

The reach into my chest,
Gently pull it forth,
Unaware of all the stings they pull along the way.
They click and unclick, switch, twist,
Unaware of the restlessness,
The poison kiss,
Hidden amoung my metals.

They think I'm simple,
Quiet,
Kind.
They see a mask, forever blind.