fifteen hours.
fourteen, depending on
where in australia you are from.
but for me, it is fifteen hours.

los angeles is fifteen-hour flight from melbourne.
fifteen hours on a plane, and you’ll be in america.
you’ll be in a ****** country, where it almost seems like
the new craze is to be a shooter,
and you only get noticed if you get shot.

they are begging, pleading,
“please stop them from killing us,
our families, our friends!”
and the others say
“oh, but i really love my gun.”
“and i care about my gun more than i care about you.”
“and i care more about my machine made to take life than about you
getting to keep yours.”
and that’s just that, i suppose.

i am fifteen hours away from a ****** country,
and i can’t tell if i’m too close
or not close enough.

i am fifteen hours away from a ****** country,
and for some reason,
that’s just fine.

I dismiss the attention nobody pays,
To the way I stay in games for days,
They say "You're wasting your time away",
But I'll play till I hit the grave,

Cause,

One more level, another point, another match,
Double ****, triple ****, don't crash,
Every day, getting better, no sweat,
Zero deaths, forty kills, no regret,

Top tier, s rank, winning streak,
Don't lose, don't die, not weak,
Can't miss, gotta win, don't quit,
Flanking, execution, legit,

We've got Contacts, reload,
Spawn traps, implode,
Bringing heavy artillery,
This is the Gamer's Creed.

Pull the trigger, take a hit,
poison drips from fingertips,
each pill shimmers upon the floor,
a deadly grip if taken more.

Casing lined in gold or silver,
with each hit, it takes a sliver;
a busted brain, a mangled heart,
they knew the risks from the start.

A curtailed cry, cut short goodbye,
two bullets settle in throat and thigh;
eyes rolled back in a glassy stare,
lips pulled apart, a forbidden pair.

Pull the trigger, take a hit,
blood runs red from fingertips,
men resting silent upon the floor,
the chamber clicks to silence more.

sperrys on his feet, frost on his head; you cross his path; now your dead!
Words in his mouth, eye can never keep count... He needs to cool out!!!
Rider for me: even though we don't agree, he's a shooter for the Queen! As it shall always be!!!!!

My geeteeaye shooter, ain't nothing cooler!