My heroes are shooters,
who kill with great skill,
so I practice and I practice,
to make a clean kill.

Happiness is a warm gun,
close by my side.
It helps hide my fear,
and bolster my pride.

For the world is very dangerous,
from the news that I read.
Full of terrorists and bad guys,
and I don't want to bleed.

My dominion over animals,
is clear with my gun.
I shoot what I want,
for sport and for fun.

No bear, snake, wolf or lion,
will harm me or my kin.
I shoot them for trophies,
and treasure their skin.

My gun is locked away,
where it will do no harm.
Just where I can't use it,
when faced with alarm.

So I keep it close and handy,
near my bed or in my car.
Where the kids always find it,
and things go bizarre.

My gun will protect me,
from all kinds of harm.
I will use it in anger,
my foes to disarm.

I will use it in anger,
with a magazine to spare,
for the more shots that I have,
the more that I will scare.

And when I am through,
I will do myself in.
Justified in all the killing,
because revenge is no sin.

I will use it in sorrow,
in depression and guilt.
For my human frailty,
is just the way that I'm built.

My final freedom,
is to do myself in,
with a shot to my temple,
and a shock to my kin.