always thought it was a metaphorennchasing twisters while avoiding the stormnnyour glass house will see better daysnnspreading lies in an uptown jewerly casennnnthe old oak i'll cut into firewoodnnyou'll start the stove like you said you wouldnnif i make it out, her world is gonna burnnnit's russian roulette and it'll always be her turnnnnnpull the triggernnif you think it will helpnnnnso pull the trigger if you think it will helpnni use to have some love but this bullet is leftnnpull the trigger if you think it will helpnni use to say i'm sorry but now i keep your gun on my beltnnnnso put the bullet in the chamber and pull the hammer backnntell your love if she's an angel better pull her wings backnnif you want a miracle you better prove me wrongnnnnpull the triggernnif you think it will helpnnnnso pull the trigger if you think it will helpnni use to have some love but this bullet is leftnnpull the trigger if you think it will helpnni use to say i'm sorry but now i keep your gun on my beltnnnni called the lord, gave him your excusennhe hung up the phone, and cut the cord in twonnnow his line is dead, and so are younnhis fucking line is dead, how am i ever getting throughnnoh no