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The Philisophical Significance Of Shooting My Sist

My name is James Secord

Everything was gone

With this bullet

In my sister's face

Maybe then they

Won't hear the screams

Pull the triggerThe mirror hurts us, the music notes

And wonder how they won't beTimes are hard enough

Without days like these

If you cry hard enough

Maybe they'll hear your screams

Life is rested, splattered neck

Put a bullet in my own sister's faceNothing now

I won't be, won't be

'Cause I am back again

Black cats, red dogs

Breakfast, rapist

Rough bread, not dead

Goodbye, rapistGod damn meWith a simple bullet

The shit is simple

You left a dead bullet

Everything is, everything is dull, gone, gone

Is dull

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