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Philosophical Significance Of Shooting My Sister In The Face. An Essay By James Secord lyrics
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 trigger

The mirror hurts us, the music notes
And wonder how they won t be

Times 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 your own sister s

Face
Nothing now
I won t be, won t be
Cause I am back again
Black cats, red dogs
Breakfast, rapist
Rough bread, not dead
Goodbye, rapist

God damn me

With 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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