Little Pistol

Up on my side, where it is felt
I pack a little pistol on my pistol belt
I think it might be fear

Of the world and the way it makes you feel afraid

Under the skin, against the skull
They put a little chip so that they know it all
I think I might be scared

Of the world and the way it makes you feel afraid
And how it gets in the way
In the way
In the way
In the way

And now I want brimstone in my garden
I want roses set on fire
And I, well, I want what's best for me
And I, well, I think I know just what that means
Just what that means

Today I coo, today I caw
I have a pistol party and I kill them all
I think I might be scared

Of the man and the men with their hands inside
And the women, oh, the women all they do is cry
And I, I, well, I lose my mind
I lose my mind
I lose my mind
I lose my mind

And now I found brimstone in my garden
I found roses set on fire
And I found Jesus, what a liar
So, I trade licks with muddy waters

And I, well I found what's best for me
And now I see no tragedy
And I, well, I've found a burning rose
And now I won't be packing little pistols
No, no, no more



Credits
Writer(s): Ryan Guldemond
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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