Mistweaver

I put the 9mm glock to your head
And gently squeese the trigger
Blowing out your [fucking] brains
On the wall in all kind of crazy figures

So what are you gonna do now
You piece of shit
(You're such a?)
How (fucking) stupid can a man be
You've should have known better

Weaving my world
From the cord of your soul
As I slowly fuck
The bullet exit hole
Through the funeral mist
I drag you to my temple
Dead yet so alive
Living in my dreams

Nothing brings me greater joy
Than the memory of when I
Wiped that smile from your lips
The look of horror in your eyes
As I pulled out a gun
And pointed it at your [fucking] face