I've got a crush on a pretty pistol
Should I tell her that I feel this way?
Father told us to be faithful
I've got a crush on a pretty pistol
Should I tell her that I feel this way
I've got love songs in my head
That are killing us away

Do you love your guns? (Yeah)
God? (Yeah)
Your government?

Do you love your guns? (Yeah)
God? (Yeah)
Your government? (Fuck yeah)

I've got love songs in my head
That are killing us away

I've got love songs in my head
That are killing us away

She tells me I'm a pretty bullet
I'm gonna be a star someday
Mother says that we should look away
She tells me I'm a pretty bullet
An imitation Christ
I've got love songs in my head
That are killing us away

The Father:
Do you love your guns? (Yeah)
God? (Yeah)
Your government? (Fuck yeah)
I've got love songs in my head
That are killing us away

Do you love your guns? (Yeah)
God? (Yeah)
Your government? (Fuck yeah)

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