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Waiting

Have you ever wondered,
What it's like to hold a gun?
To pull the tiny trigger,
and put a bullet in your skull?

I walk on my own,
but always in a crowd,
and maybe that's a contradiction
and maybe that's the plan
and maybe I'm just waiting
for someone to understand.

Have you ever noticed,
what it's like to hold a knife?
To hold the fragile metal,
and bring peril to your life?

I walk all alone,
but always in a crowd,
and maybe that's just nonsense
and maybe that's the point
and maybe I'm just waiting
for someone to disjoint.

Have you ever felt it,
what it's like to hold a heart?
To hold the delicate emotion,
and tactlessly pull it apart?

I walk, always alone,
but always in a crowd,
and maybe that's just folly
and maybe that's the plan
and maybe I'm just waiting,
maybe I'm just waiting.