One, he reaches out for his gun,
Thinking about the loving wife he had.
Two, he gets some bullets from the case,
Remembering her adultery and how he got mad.
Three, he loads them in one by one,
Seeing his puppy in mind.
Four, he insert the drum inside
crying because he left him behind.
Five, nervously he aims to the head,
Making seconds thoughts about it, thinking about mom and
dad.
Six, he let a shot go
Because he prefers to be dead.