Tensions rising, rising high
Hold your breath, don't even sigh
Is he our savior, stand-up guy,
The way he holds his shotgun, why?
The discipline to wield a weapon
His grip, I look, it is not stable
Walk away at such an angle
So I don't yet get sent to heaven
To wield a weapon, such a weapon
Training must be step-by-step
And if you have to pull that trigger
Ensure your target's that much bigger
At any second, he could yell,
At any second, WHAM! You fell,
At any second, BAM! A shell
Is lit ablaze, innocent people grazed
...There's people here,
There's people here!
Buckshot is not for people near!
For targets near and targets here,
But not for the bystanders here...
So argue, genius...
Scream and yell...
He looks ready to send you, well...
A couple feet and then to hell...
Drop your bat, if even that,
This stick won't help you beat a fat
12-gauge armed man who wants you out
So drop it, now, no, do not shout
I do not care for violent clout
His job is his, a weapon whiz,
Enough to kill you, and then him,
So walk away, and let him win...