When gods and devils walk through the street
And a red haired girl spits on you for no discernible reason
You might think the universe is chaos
You might; but you’d be wrong
When he picked up that pistol and brought an end to himself
You might have thought it was the ultimate proof
of a hard and cold wall at the center of everything
You might; but you’d be wrong
When you realized that those gods and devils were nothing
That you couldn’t see within yourself
And that the red haired girl was you, spitting upon yourself
And before the bullet casing hit the floor, he’d already landed somewhere soft
Maybe, just maybe
You were onto something
