When you phoned me from Japan,
you stuttered, stalled, and then began.
You told me that you had the will
and the conscience for to kill another man.
I hung up hopeless and fatigued,
the portent I had long foreseen
was written clear across the wall,
with no one there to break your fall.
I told you, “Don’t you tread there; you are gonna crack.”
You told me, when they’re dead then maybe you’ll relax.
For a lifetime you’ve been burying your thoughts.
Maybe action is the answer that you’ve sought.
I listened from the start,
your torment tugging at my heart.
But with reason far behind,
the puzzle pieces fell apart.
There’s no one there I tell you, take a breath, keep calm.
Panic building, pictures falling from the wall.
Walk away, I urge you, the damage is yet done.
On a mission, with precision you drift…
The moon is a sign that the enemy line, as it waxes and wanes, is as endless as time, endless as time, end of the line, end of the line, endless as time, endless as time, end of the line, end of the line, endless as…
Time keeps passing dawn will never come,
until you pull the trigger on your psychotropic gun.
Walk away, I hate to; But I don’t have a choice.
If I’m not careful, I too will be destroyed.