Lyrics to Guns Are For Cowards
If you could do it without anyone saying that you'd committed a crime
Make a short list of folks you could destroy for this and all time
Who would you shoot in the face?
Who would you shoot in the brain?
Who would you shoot in the back
And leave bleeding out in the rain?
Who would you shoot in the leg?
How many times in the neck?
Who would you shoot? And then how would you feel, exalted?
Or destroyed?
Well, I had a friend who was shot seven times as she tried, scared, to run away
She couldn't scream, her mouth had been shot, and now she's not with us today
Oh, who would you shoot in the face?
Who would you shoot in the brain?
Who would you shoot in the back
And leave bleeding out in the rain?
And who would you shoot in the leg?
How many times in the neck?
Who would you shoot and then how would you feel, exalted?
Or destroyed?
Oh, la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la
Hey
Well, guns are for cowards and cowards created by fear and withholding of love
There's no way to change this awful and strange imbalance that I'm singing of
Who would you shoot in the face?
Who would you shoot in the brain?
Who would you shoot in the back
And leave bleeding out in the rain?
Who would you shoot in the leg?
How many times in the neck?
Who would you shoot and then how would you feel, exalted?
Or destroyed?
Make a short list of folks you could destroy for this and all time
Who would you shoot in the face?
Who would you shoot in the brain?
Who would you shoot in the back
And leave bleeding out in the rain?
Who would you shoot in the leg?
How many times in the neck?
Who would you shoot? And then how would you feel, exalted?
Or destroyed?
Well, I had a friend who was shot seven times as she tried, scared, to run away
She couldn't scream, her mouth had been shot, and now she's not with us today
Oh, who would you shoot in the face?
Who would you shoot in the brain?
Who would you shoot in the back
And leave bleeding out in the rain?
And who would you shoot in the leg?
How many times in the neck?
Who would you shoot and then how would you feel, exalted?
Or destroyed?
Oh, la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la
Hey
Well, guns are for cowards and cowards created by fear and withholding of love
There's no way to change this awful and strange imbalance that I'm singing of
Who would you shoot in the face?
Who would you shoot in the brain?
Who would you shoot in the back
And leave bleeding out in the rain?
Who would you shoot in the leg?
How many times in the neck?
Who would you shoot and then how would you feel, exalted?
Or destroyed?