Is this my real Wife?
Or is she plasticine?
Caught in my gun sight
No escape from my magazine
She looked to the skies
And I missed her eyes, you see
I'm just a poor shot
Missed her entirely
Easy shot, Time went slow
Missed her high, missed her low
Anyway I took aim
Nothing seemed to shatter, my dream
My dream
Too late
She went to run
Aimed a gun right at her head
Missed by miles and she's not dead
Momma
Just one shot away
I might as well have shot at her behind
Momma
Who knew
Didn't mean to miss my aim
I sometimes wish I'd never took aim at all
Now she's gone, Now she's gone
And I failed to make her shatter
I saw a little stiletto as she ran
Must have hurt, in the dirt
And she vanished in the woodland
Conifers and beech trees
Crashing into her knees
Green!
I'm such a poor shot, she didn't love me
My blooming buckshot, hit a small oak tree
Spared her a life and the rebound hit me
Easy shot, couldn't miss,
Trouble is, I was pissed
Spared her a life and the truth is I missed
Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
I aimed at her kill zone
Hit the bloody tree
Lying in the woodland
Dying of a rebound
Nothing really matters
To me
Anyway...I'm comatose
Nothing really matters to me!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem