The conversation’s dead but I’m one to be a needle in the eye

Cuz time and time again we waste the words

With an itchy finger on a loaded gun

I’m not here to talk

I’ve gotten beat from always hitting a brick wall

I’m gonna count to 10

I’m gonna spin that chamber ‘round

Won’t even have a chance to see what forced you to the ground

You know how good it gets when perspective stains your mouth

I’m gonna count to 10

See, I’ve got my shiny extra limb

And I’m good at slinging to feel like a bigger man

All loaded up and your body’s shaking

Reconsider an amend

Scapegoats by the dozen line the halls

Each one with a story left to tell

Panic as the empty casings fall

Wondering what excuse you will sell

You’ve got the lead, you’ve got the law

All loaded up, I’ll load

I’m gonna count to 10

I’m gonna spin that chamber ‘round

Paranoid. Which of us will draw last?

Paranoid. Who will be the one to stand?

Paranoid. Which of us will draw last?

I’m searching for reasons to loosen my grip

When all I believe in makes you the target

I’m searching for reasons. I loosen my grip

When all I believe in, lies in this bullet