Today was a good day,
I woke up and loaded my gun, going postal is the plan.
No real reason, no real plan, just pick a place and aim for people.

Here’s the school, here’s the office, here’s the steeple, steady hand and aim for people.
Hair trigger and hog wild, going ape but having too much fun to care.
Smile on my face or least on the mask I wore today;
Left the house today with a plan to see the bodies drop by my hand.

It’s as much fun as you can have on a Monday.
Service on the Sunday gets shaken up with I burst down the door, pulled my trigger and watch the bodies hit the floor.
The mall was more fun after I lit up the food court,
The movies were a scream filled with screams from the survivors.
Picture day and everyone is dressed to impress at least they dressed for the funerals.

Today was the plan, just drop as many as I can.
No one to stop my fun, no one saw it coming and as soon as I started I moved on, location, location, location and the hospital is next.

Quick stop at the post office to take it back to where it all began.
Falling down is fun as long as you take everyone with you.
Now some will say I’m crazy, or some will say I lost it or some will say I snapped along the way, but they’re just repressed. I do what they think about.
They would love to blow away the people they complain about on a daily basis.

Just get a gun, get your gun Johnny, get your gun Jenny, get your gun Janie and Tommy’s got his gun.
We can go the park on Saturday and make a field day out of the people swinging on the swings, we can hunt the hunters, we can hunt the sheeple.
Run rabbit run, I’ll give you a ten second head start but I’ll close the distance and soon you’ll be boring, I’ll need a new target.

I need a new mark.

Silence in the library, good thing silencers come in all sizes.
I’m having too much fun to stop, I’m usually bored and pent up, *** was staring to bore me. Work was wearing me down and school was full of drama and **** kids;
I found myself a hobby, something to let off steam.
It doesn’t take much to have this kind of fun, just aim and laugh as you gun em down.

Drive-in movie turns out to be a drive by spray of fun.
Parking lot like fish in a barrel, doing donuts before driving away into the night.
Night club is my next stop and its pack to the brim, dance floor center and work outwards.

Now some will say I’m violent and others will call me a monster but when we speak of expression, which of us is repressed?
I pull a trigger to get rid of stress while you do drugs, cheat on your lover and talk bad about everyone behind their backs, you stress over stress and can’t ever seem to get it to clear;

On the flip I got a smile on my face as I skip through downtown just shooting off at the hip;
Rich, Poor, Black, White, Elderly, Children- no difference to me.
I take aim and just let the bullet travel true and fast.
A shot to the heart really gets me going, I laugh and sprint down the street gotta hide from police now, hide and seek and while I hide in plain sight I take this time to mark some new marks.

I sleep easy at night having blown my stress away, I know you say you don’t like people but let me tell you, you’re being antisocial.
People make life fun and the couple who go out together die hand in hand by the hand holding my gun.

This is my rifle, this is my gun, this isn’t a social experiment and this is for fun.

Her words were beautiful
She spoke in a soft tone,
barely a whisper
She wrote about memories, dreams, laughs
and when he kissed her.

She didn’t have control over the pencil,
it just wrote.
and wrote.
and wrote.
Maybe the words would become songs with a beautiful note.

“Another boy” “I suppose”
They have seen more than her,
but not how her spirits rose.

Who did she want? What and when?
She wanted him, to love and then.
She sat there watching couples with their lover.

She wrote the truth that no one liked
but that’s what she did best,
wrote what no one would write.

Sometimes they were simple,
sometimes they rhymed
She wrote on her own will and time
They may not think it, but the strings of the heart she would pull
And just like her,
Her words were beautiful.

Where did she go?
Not anywhere far.
Not a stranger’s house,
a bus stop,
or a get away car.

She stayed nearby
but yet, she didn’t really
She wasn’t here to begin with
She was gone from the start,
but merely.

Her feelings shrank
the amount of drugs flooded
and her tears were what kept her afloat
with her wrists and thighs blooded.

They sat in her room, listening to sobs
of her drunken mother
and her sleep deprived father
hoping she’d come back
even though every second, she became farther.

She was beautiful
brown eyes and a smile
but she never stayed for a long while

They would ask where she was
how she acted, what she was drawn to
they didn’t have an answer other than
“She’s gone.”