Birthed in the minds of power-mad men, Forged in the mouth of a dark thundercloud, My sole purpose to kill, I make murder a thrill; The cause of many A burial shroud.
A tool of war-mongers and lovers, alike, Eat bullets, spit fire, life snatched in a flash. Life of violence, Ringing silence, Endless echoes left, Bereft and shrieking, After the crash.
Were I not here, you'd find another way, To kill each other, one by one, Each day. Death-bringer, me. "Equalizer", I be. Men, women, children... None are safe from The Gun.
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