Pretty Bullets
Give me bullets and I will not make you a gun
I will but chew them up and spit the shells at your feet
Pretty bullets all lined in a row
Knock one over to see them fall one by one
Like acid, gun powder melts away the flesh
Why do our enemies arm themselves with the tools of war
The brave and the weak all line up as one, but someone brought a gun
With malice or just for fun
When the smoke dissipates
The lifeless pile upon themselves
God bless each and every soul that leaves a stone upon hallowed ground
I honor those who obey to protect
Though I will never understand the hatred of humanity
Nevertheless history mandates survival of the fittest
So I will strengthen myself to make a stand if I must
When it is up to me I will not be the one to provoke
Give me bullets and I will not make you a gun...
It is easier to walk away when no one has a weapon; if everyone were only armed with words!?
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