I take the gun and put it against my head
Now all I have to do is pull the trigger and I'll be dead
I can feel the cool metal against my skin
And biting my lip I hold the tears in
I really don't want this to happen yet
But I don't think I can just forget
I did things I shouldn't have done
Which is why my hand holds a gun
It's heavy and cold and slippery from sweat
I don't think I've thought this through just yet
So I set the gun down and walk away
It will just have to wait for another day