The Gun Boomerang

The Gun Boomerang

The common
man

Cryin for
help

Got no
money, no
food

You in
your wine

Got the
goons

To leash
them

They broke
down

Blood on
the floor

You laughed
as loudly
you could

No mercy,
no pain
in you

One fine
day

You with
your riches

And all
that was
left

Goons and
young prostitutes

One of
them

Got a
gun

And put
a hole

In your
head

Caution: This might be all theory

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