Do You Turn the Guns On Me?

Let's sing a song
To a paranoid rant I've held for too long
To friends and relations who cannot but help
But dictate what I should do for myself
I'll admit when I'm in a jam
You always help out the best that you can
But you alternate between the sound of your voice
And talking down the things over which I've no choice

When I turn away
Do you turn the guns on me?

A cursory look out the window
Turned into a thousand-yard stare
Biding my time for some perfect moment
That never materializes there
I can hardly call it getting by
Some great mind I turned out to be
When you're in perpetual motion but haven't moved an inch
And vacillate constantly

When I turn away
Do you turn the guns on me?

Have I made good on your rubric?
What qualities have you yet to test
Confidence in one's self is all self-delusion
Unless you make good on your bets
So wrap up the meeting and tell me your plans
I know your hands have made certain demands
If that's your intent, I spit on your palms
I'm ready for my final stand

So, go on ahead
Go turn the guns on me
But don't you dare fire
Until mine eyes' whites you see