You pray they believe your alibi
And now that?
You pray they believe your alibi
But the glove fit you perfectly
You cleaned the traces, you burned letters
But you left the gun in the elevator
They rejected your version
Expertise sang obsession
In the end everything was stained with burgundy
It no longer matters who is right
In the end you didn’t know how to ask for forgiveness
And a bullet remained in his temple as a memory
Now it’s gone, you have nothing left
You lost because you were arrogant like a god
You put your faith in your own farce
But it didn’t give 3, add a 2 with a 2
They punished your hostile action
Who made it is who paid for it
In the end everything was stained with burgundy
It no longer matters who is right
In the end you didn’t know how to ask for forgiveness
And a bullet remained in his temple as a memory
(“Go ahead, make my day”)
In the end everything was stained with burgundy
It no longer matters who is right
In the end you didn’t know how to ask for forgiveness
And a bullet remained in his temple as a memory
A bullet in the temple is not a form of expression
A bullet to the temple, it’s not a form of expression, oh no
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