Crazy bastard with a Gun

……haven’t you heard, to hell with the word in Johannesburg, I’m a crazy bastard with a gun, everybody else is done, I live in America where it’s fun, catch you at the mall you better run.  I don’t care if you don’t mean me harm, that makes it a charm; why, cause I’m a crazy bastard with a gun. Stop trying to hide behind innocent eyes, and looks of surprise, hold still and watch me peel, add you to my kills,  give your grandma the chills, shooting innocence at will. My diagnosis is psychosomatic, I’ll panic and grab that gun as a tactic. Accept me on my terms or burn, your political affiliates can’t help with what I’m feeling, I know the sh!t you’re dealing. No vote can make me accepted, my life is hectic, something in my mother’s womb recked it; my affliction is biblical, the hatred’s reciprocal, so my life’s not typical, it’s unlivable…. But I refuse to leave everyone else alive, we all can open hell’s gates and take a dive.