It's a bullet conversation for Peace.
But Peace is now War.
And War, now Peace.
The endless pull of that trigger,
Making the echos of the needy, impossible to hear.
Through all the ruckus of bland revenge, greed and frustration.
We still want some blood shed,
A little temptation.
And there's an invitation to a whole new game.
We're just chess pieces in checkers.
Playing another game of Russian Roulette,
Except the barrel is empty.
We're no fairy tale.
We dont have happy endings,
Just pain.
But in the end, it's just a bullet conversation,
For War....
