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Feb 19, 2007
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Gone with the Gun
I’ve gone with the gun to help you win,
Once you win with my gun
And you sit on you throne,
Elections over, see you never,
Thugs tucked into obscurity whence
they came and whence they return,
Gun to gun, dust to dust, dog eat dog,
Pauper returns to his roots in the gutters,
To obscurity, his Neverland, whence he came,
Still puffed-eyed with hunger and starvation,
With no rivals to kill, weapons return to the giver,
Done with the gun, the poor returns poor, dust to dust.
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