Being with you is like giving a loaded gun to a child,
Pistol clasped in both hands, shots fired, can we be reconciled?
Gathered up your words, your lies, put them away
Let them bleed down the page, leave them til the edges fray.
When I gave everything to you, it was me that I lost,
I know that I love you but at what cost?
I’ll think of you fondly in a bitter and twisted way,
But my mind, you see, has started to crumble and decay.