I know what you think in the morning,
When the sun shines on the ground,
And shows what you have done,
It shows where your mind has gone,
And you swear to your parents,
That it will never happen again,
I know, I know what that means, I know.
That you all have guns,
And you never put the safety on,
And you all have plans,
To take it, don’t take it.
I’m trying, I’m trying to sleep,
I’m trying, I’m trying to sleep,
But I can’t, but I can’t when you all have,
Guns for hands.
Let’s take this a second at a time,
Let’s take this one song, this one rhyme,
Together, let’s breathe,
Together, to the beat,
But there’s hope out the window,
So that’s where we’ll go,
Let’s go outside and all join hands,
But until then you’ll never understand.
We’ve turned our hands to guns, trade in our thumbs for ammunition,
I must forewarn you, of my disorder, or my condition,
‘Cause when the sun sets, it upsets what’s left of my invested interest,
Interested in putting my fingers to my head,
The solution is, I see a whole room of these mutant kids,
Fused at the wrist, I simply tell them they should shoot at this,
Simply suggest my chest and this confused music, it’s,
Obviously best for them to turn their guns to a fist.
