You won’t feel any pain. 

In the time it takes your heart to beat you’ll never beat me again.

I promise you if this trigger doesn’t stick you are through.



Far greater men have gone quite insane

waiting for the day they die with little hope and little life,

so it’s a favor to you that if this trigger doesn’t stick you are through. 



You could not kill your own brother

in front of his weeping lover,

and you know it’s true that if you do my blood will cry out to you.



You may have loved her form the start 

but your tongue could not keep up with your heart. I'm sorry.

A box of chocolates a dozen roses,

but when you got there I’d already been chosen.



She wears my ring, and whatever pain that brings

there is no changing her favoring. At least not this way. 

Because if strong arms can shape minds

in a sorry state ourselves we find.



You won’t feel any pain.

In the time it takes your mind to think you’ll never think a thing again,

and I promise you if this trigger doesn’t stick you are through