Shooter
Words and Music By Patrick Harnish
Weep for me. I've lost my way.
Can't say for sure why I'm leaving this way.
But mother won't suffer. I won't leave her pain.
From the work of my hands or the weight of my shame.
I've climbed so high, to bid you farewell. You may go to heaven, but today's gon' be hell.
With bullets and bodies I'll fill up this tale. This is my rifle. I've cleaned it so well.
There's demons in me and they will not subside. They crawl through my brain and they see through my eyes.
Weigh down my thoughts with these terrible things. Monsters and madman all wanting the same.
It's bullets and bodies and angels who fell. This is my rifle. I've cleaned it so well.
Weep for me. I've lost my way. Can't say for sure, why I'm leaving this way. But mother won't suffer. I won't leave her pain. From the work of my hands or the weight of my shame.
Don't you weep for me because I've lost way. Can't say for sure why I'm leaving this way. But mother won't suffer. I won't leave her pain. From the work of my hands or the weight of my shame.
And I've climbed so high to bid you farewell. You may go to heaven but today's gon' be hell. With bullets and bodies I'll fill up this tale. This is my rifle. I've cleaned it so wel.
These thoughts in my head, I no longer can hide.
Cut open my brain so you see what's inside.
I may go to heaven so here's my last rites.
In the dark water, they'll all get baptised.
It's bullets and bodies. I'll show you my hell. This is my rifle. I've cleaned it so well.