He cocked the gun It made a sound He moved his hands To aim the dispenser He moved his thumbs
And there it goes A clicking sound And Air bubbles
She took the gun from his hand She cocked the gun once again The gun clicks But no bubbles come out this time
The gun fires up a storm It punctures a hole right through her head She wails in pain and passes out While he wails in remorse for this regretful mistake
Tears of ice run down her face Freezing up as she drifts away He shakes, screams, shouts, and begs "Please don't pass away!"
This is what happens when you play with death Another game of Russian Roulette