This Town Needs Guns Left Aligned
Our friends all dressed so smartly
This feels ugly, so wrong
A white box held aloft
Those guys must be so strong
Chase, voice sounding so grave
Tells me out straight he's gone
That's all, short phone call
It's over now
Tie our conscience down
With heavy heads and frowns
Running up the walls
Sick, stressed and old
Regretful of what life could have been
Tired, stretched and thin keep him in
You're rolling off the rails
Lights signal fails, (?)
Of compensation claims
Screeching breaks and loud crashing sounds
It's over now
Tie our conscience down
With heavy heads and frowns
Our friends all dressed so smartly
This feels ugly, so wrong
A white box held aloft
Those guys must be so strong
Chase, voice sounding so grave
Tells me out straight he's gone
So try to move on
But he's helped shape the man that I am now