You won't feel any pain
In the time it takes your heart to beat you'll never beat me again
I promise you if this trigger doesn't stick you are through

Far greater men have gone quite insane
waiting for the day they die with little hope and little life,
so it's a favor to you that if this trigger doesn't stick you are through

You could not kill your own brother
in front of his weeping lover,
and you know it's true that if you do my blood will cry out to you

You may have loved her form the start
but your tongue could not keep up with your heart I'm sorry
A box of chocolates a dozen roses,
but when you got there I'd already been chosen

She wears my ring, and whatever pain that brings
there is no changing her favoring At least not this way
Because if strong arms can shape minds
in a sorry state ourselves we find

You won't feel any pain
In the time it takes your mind to think you'll never think a thing again,
and I promise you if this trigger doesn't stick you are through