It was the season of the gun that year
All the kids just had to have one
Some just liked looking at them
Shying away from the trigger pull
Shuddering at the words it spoke
In 9mm Parabellum or .223
They didn’t make it

It was the season of the gun that year
All the guys gabbed about
How theirs was so fucking cool
Kitted out
Locked and Loaded
Ready to rock the world in body counts
Some of them were even allowed
Some even went to show the kids
To hear them speak
They didn’t make it

This year is the season of the gun
Only these guns are older
Ancient by design actually
And unlike their contemporary counterparts
These guns spit ammo that can pierce souls
They fire in pejoratives and slurs
They scream in waves of hate and fear
These bullets bleed the spirit
They didn’t make it, but they live on

This is the Season of the Gun