Pick up that gun. Pull the trigger. See who is going to be first, The first one to snigger.
Hey you. Shaking in your pixie boots. Do you think she's gonna shoot.
Wry smile creeps. From eyes that don't weep. That peep around corners. Abridged by the mourners.
Hey you. Is she feeling blue. Is she gonna run a main line.
Leaving tracks from vacant trains. A fix to write all wrongs. No man. Chemical solutions never fixed the pain. No needles ever entered her sweet veins.