If I were a bomb ignited
Guns, barrels,
Black powder and smoke
I would love to choke
On the taste of you
Ticking away with the siren
The buttons only pushed
By the likes of you
The sizzle of the match
Across the pavement
Roughed and scorched
The scent is new
Burnt to the pulp
And the blood becomes vapor
By way of fire
Is what we choose
