Cold whispers,
of a once hated life,
now on a table.
Cold whsipers,
of frowns, now smiles,
stretched on his face, before he's put in the ground.
Cold whispers,
of pain and sadness, now joy and rapture,
sent straight to hell,
'long with his heart...
He's quite please with himself.
One bullet leaves cold whispers,
and one bullet feels no love,
one bullet will rip you all apart,
and one bullet can end your life,
one bullet will go in and out,
and one bullet will end your strife,
but one bullet, just one bullet,
will punish the ones you loved.
He went out with a bang,
and gave it all up,
but theres one thing missing...
Something just snipped his gut?
