Clarity comes so much easier when you’re staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.
Doesn’t it Sweetheart?
Not as much fun as it seems…
Keep the muslin clean.
No need to taint it with your tarnished blood.

Not yet anyway…
Let’s just play a harmful little game.

In this little chamber, was salvation.
In this little chamber, was none.
This little chamber was called Russian roulette,
Where is that deadly bullet in the gun?

Spin the wheel and take a hit.
See what kind of mercy Lady Luck will give.
But it all lies within the final chamber that will send you home.

How does it taste?
Like a lead drug fix with a copper chaser.
One that will send you into that delicious coma,
The one where you never wake up.

It’s all about a perfect solution.
A chemical harmony balanced on the level of a gun.
Executed by the trance of a trigger,
Littered with a trace of blood.

Game on…